Wind Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

grey reprimand grimly a sky was covered
clouds started crying with rain
the wind is wailing frenzied and is hitting dancings
on the way pulling the trees
it is clinging to the branch
whistling is pretending that it is singing
as the nightingale in the green clump
then it is typing to windows
into the door it is thudding and it is bashing
and right away to fields is blowing quickly
nobody would catch it
and when the enthusiasm for the play will lose
it will perch on blades of grass to rest
in order to have enough strength
to prance about still with night
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