O WIND!

You denude all the trees in my sight,

And all of them wear out;

But I embrace myself to one,

Protecting it from you.

But you blow on and on,

I have nothing to do.

A time shall come

When my tree shall also die,

When I shall wander in loneliness.

When the faded memories of the tree

Shall strike me,

When its leaves shall comfort me,

It might be too late;

Who knows if it’s the last winter for my tree?

In an away land,

When memories similar to my tree meet me,

I writhe in pain, hoping a last hope.

The last hope flickers like a weak flame

And duly prone to the fierce wind.

Why wind why?

And so I ask now,

“O Time! Why are you so cruel?

O Life! Why are you so painful?”

And so shall you blow,

And so shall I twist in agony,

And so shall we drag on sluggishly,

And so do we have to accept Life’s travail.

But yet we have to move on,

Happily bearing your cruelty.