I
Ah, the wild west wind, you, the breath of autumn, you, before you can't see, the dead leaves are driven away, like ghosts fleeing from a wizard, yellow, black, pale, fanatical red, plague-ridden people: Ah, you, drive the winged seeds to their beds in the dark winter, where they lie cold and low, each like a grave. Listen, oh, listen!
two
In your stream, in the turmoil of the steep sky, loose clouds fall from the tangled branches of heaven and ocean like rotten leaves of the earth. Angels of rain and lightning are scattered on the turbulent blue surface of your sky, just like the bright hair on the heads of some fierce priestesses, even from the blurred edge of the horizon to the height of the zenith, the lock of the coming storm. You elegy of the dying year, this last night will be the dome of a huge grave. With all the power of your gathered steam, from its solid air, black rain, fire and hail will erupt: Oh, listen!
Roman numeral 3
It was you who awakened the blue Mediterranean from his summer dream. He was lying there, hypnotized by the coil of his crystal stream. By the pumice island in Baie Bay, in his sleep, he saw the ancient palaces and towers trembling in the rough day, all covered with sky-blue moss and so sweet flowers, and the vague feeling described them! Your road, the flat waves of the Atlantic Ocean split itself into cracks, and far below, sea flowers and muddy Woods, wearing away the dead leaves of the ocean, recognized your voice and suddenly turned gray, trembling and desperate with fear: Oh, listen!
Intravenously injected
If I am a dead leaf, you can bear it; If I were a cloud, I would fly with you; A wave that breathes under your strength, the impulse to share your strength, is just not as free as you, ah, uncontrollable! If I can be your partner roaming in heaven as I was a teenager, then it seems only an illusion to surpass your sliding speed; I would never have prayed so hard with you when I needed it most. Oh, lift me up like waves, leaves and clouds! I fell on the thorns of life! I am bleeding! The heavy shackles of time bind a person like you: unruly, agile and proud.
V
Let me be your harp, just like the forest: what if my leaves fall like its own! The noise of your powerful harmony will bring sadness and sweetness from the deep autumn tone. Be you, fierce soul, my soul! Be me, impulsive person! Drive my dead thoughts into the universe, just like withered leaves, to accelerate rebirth! Through the spell of this poem, spread my words around the world like ashes and sparks that never go out! Blow the horn of prophecy to the awakening earth through my lips! Oh, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Ode to the west wind Section 1 Oh, the wild west wind, the breath of autumn life! The cover of ode to the west wind.
You can't see, but you swept away the dead leaves, like a ghost meeting a wizard and running away: yellow, black, gray and red are like a group of people with tuberculosis. Oh, west wind, you drive winged seeds to the dark winter bed, where they lie like dead holes in the grave, cold and cold. Free spirit, you travel everywhere; Destroyer and Protector: Listen, you listen!
the second part
Into your torrent, when the sky is in chaos, clouds are torn apart from the tangled branches of the sky and the ocean like dead leaves of the earth. Be the messengers of rain and electricity: they fall on your majestic blue wave surface, flashing like crazy women's fluttering hair, reaching the zenith of Nine from the farthest and vaguest edge of the sky, and waving curly hair everywhere. You sang Corona songs for the year of dying, and this dense night will become the dome of its vast grave, which is full of the condensation of your strength; That's your innocent breath, from which black rain, hail and flames will pour out: Oh, listen!
the third part
It's you, who woke up the blue Mediterranean, which had been sleeping for a whole summer, and was hypnotized into a dream by the dancing of clear water. Just beside a pumice island in Baya Bay, it dreamed that ancient palaces and castles were fluttering in the reflection of water and sky, and they were all covered with moss and flowers. That smell is really charming! Oh, in order to make way for you, the turbulent waves of the Atlantic split themselves in two directions, while the flowers and muddy forests in the depths of the ocean, though sparsely covered with branches and leaves, have no energy; Hearing your voice, they turned blue with fear: while trembling, they automatically flinched: Oh, listen!
Section iv
Hey, if I am a dead leaf floating with you, if I am a cloud that can fly with you, a wave that breathes with your strength, if I have your pulse, I just don't have your freedom, oh, an uncontrollable life! If I could dance like Feng Ling when I was a teenager, become your partner and roam the sky (because, at that time, chasing you to the sky didn't seem like a dream), I wouldn't be so anxious to pray with you now. Oh, lift me up like waves, leaves and clouds! I fell on the thorns of life, I was bleeding! This kind of life is suppressed by the heavy shackles of years, just like you: proud, agile and unruly.
Section 5
Think of me as your harp, like a forest: even if my leaves have fallen, what does it matter! The music inspired by your huge ensemble will contaminate the forest and my late autumn: sad but sweet. Oh, I hope you can give me a violent soul! Brave, let us become one! Please blow my dead thoughts to the world and let them give birth to new life like dead leaves! Oh, please listen to this spell-like poem, and spread my words to the world like ashes and sparks from the still burning fire! Let the horn of prophecy awaken the sleeping earth through my lips! West wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
The shortest answer is doing.
The shortest answer is action.