The storm has passed, the earth now still,
Puddles gleam in the softened light,
Cool winds whisper with a gentle thrill.
Two birds dance where waters spread,
Splashing, chirping in sheer delight,
A summer gift where fears had fled.
Yet broken branches mourn the fight,
Scattered leaves in silence lay,
Torn by winds that ruled the night.
Calm returns as dusk draws near,
Silver clouds in golden sway,
Peace and loss both linger here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem