High over the battling street
I watch the wind blow
In frenzy tearing the plane trees
That are tossing below.
The high balcony's railing
Casts a shadow unstirred:
Of this mad torment of air
The sun has not heard.
High over the battling street
I watch the wind blow
In frenzy tearing the plane trees
That are tossing below.
The high balcony's railing
Casts a shadow unstirred:
Of this mad torment of air
The sun has not heard.
© Robert Laurence Binyon