When the wind is driving the clouds
Towards the north-west corner of the sky
Like a shepherd driving his herd
Towards the distant pen at dusk
And there is no trace of the sun,
Green leaves grow pale in fear of a storm.
I can sense too that a storm is looming
Over the north-west horizon.
Yet I feel no fear as I face the wind and say,
“Come, you can take nothing away from me.”