listen to the birds their song is ominously changed
dawn is filled with sounds coloured with fear
the clouds snarling shapes are subtly re-arranged
something dark and dangerous is near
waves are stilled and silent tides are poised right on the turn
this lonely day on which all hopes are pinned
I am no longer sure what it is i yearn
listening to a story like the wind
still upon the mountain is the shadow of the night
colours faded weary into grey
as cold as silver in the gradual morning light
birds in sudden silence turn away
a pale longing skyline, hungry loose leaf trees
I remember how the debt collector grinned
i stumble on a world that no one ever sees
listening to a story like the wind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem