O'er the hills and mountains high,
Touching the rivers and grasslands green,
From the fields of rice to the garth of flowers,
Wandering with the clouds and moving with the rain,
From sandy deserts to the forests green,
From a maid's hair to her lover sweet,
Singing with the cukoos to crawing with the crows,
Pleasant in the spring and harsh in the winters,
From a child's breath to the graveyard still,
Blows with all the lovely wind.
Share This Poem
This Poems Story
As far as the title clearly suggests these verses are on wind.