A poetic meditation on the freedom and generosity of the wind. It moves through the world asking nothing in return—filling sails, carrying songs and scents, gathering the fragrance of blossoming fields, while sweeping away what is dead and scattered. The wind becomes a symbol of life itself: restless, giving, transformative, and forever moving between renewal and letting go.
The wandering wind that fills the sails,
the scents of the earth, songs, and sounds.
But what does the wind ask in return for doing these
things?
It asks for nothing, wants nothing; it simply blows and
blows,
it simply blows and blows.
And as the fields blossomed—the bud, the rose—
it miraculously gathered their fragrance.
Blow and blow,
blow and blow,
blow and blow,
blow and blow,
blow and blow.
The wandering wind that fills the sails,
scatters dead and loose things far and wide.