The Storm

Das ist ein Brausen und Heulen

A howling storm is brewing,
The wind and rain are wild;
And what can my love be doing,
That pale and frightened child?

There at the window dreaming,
I see her, worn and white;
With eyes no longer beaming,
She stares into the night.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.