India Languages, asked by ajr714, 9 months ago

a poem about wind, water, rain and moon​

Answers

Answered by rishu912gaga5
0

Explanation:

I saw you toss the kites on high

And blow the birds about the sky;

And all around I heard you pass,

Like ladies' skirts across the grass--

O wind, a-blowing all day long,

O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I saw the different things you did,

But always you yourself you hid.

I felt you push, I heard you call,

I could not see yourself at all--

O wind, a-blowing all day long,

O wind, that sings so loud a song!

O you that are so strong and cold,

O blower, are you young or old?

Are you a beast of field and tree,

Or just a stronger child than me?

O wind, a-blowing all day long,

O wind, that sings so loud a song!

Answered by lovelymathewzion
1

Answer:

Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out.

You stare

In the air

Like a ghost in a chair,

Always looking what I am about;

I hate to be watched; I will blow you out."

The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon.

So, deep,

On a heap

Of clouds, to sleep,

Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon—

Muttering low, "I've done for that Moon."

He turned in his bed; she was there again!

On high

In the sky,

With her one ghost eye,

The Moon shone white and alive and plain.

Said the Wind—"I will blow you out again."

The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim.

"With my sledge

And my wedge

I have knocked off her edge!

If only I blow right fierce and grim,

The creature will soon be dimmer than dim."

He blew and blew, and she thinned to a thread.

"One puff

More's enough

To blow her to snuff!

One good puff more where the last was bred,

And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread!"

He blew a great blast and the thread was gone;

In the air

Nowhere

Was a moonbeam bare;

Far off and harmless the shy stars shone;

Sure and certain the Moon was gone!

The Wind he took to his revels once more;

On down

In town,

Like a merry mad clown,

He leaped and hallooed with whistle and roar,

"What's that?" The glimmering thread once more!

He flew in a rage—he danced and blew;

But in vain

Was the pain

Of his bursting brain;

For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew,

The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew.

Slowly she grew—till she filled the night,

And shone

On her throne

In the sky alone,

A matchless, wonderful, silvery light,

Radiant and lovely, the Queen of the Night.

Said the Wind—"What a marvel of power am I!

With my breath,

Good faith!

I blew her to death—

First blew her away right out of the sky—

Then blew her in; what a strength am I!"

But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair,

For, high

In the sky,

With her one white eye,

Motionless, miles above the air,

She had never heard the great Wind blare.

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