风起于无声的旷野，
翻涌于山巅林海之间，
拒绝归属于任何疆界，
却抚摸每一片叶，每一寸羽。
鸟儿追着风的方向，
像是追逐一场不老的传说，
任性的展开翅膀，不问归途，
只为在狂野中，与风共舞一次自由。
风，时而温柔如情人的手，
拂过羽翼，像轻声细语的梦；
时而却狂野如怒海惊雷，
撕裂天幕，卷走云霞，考验翅膀的坚韧与信念。
鸟儿不惧风雨，
它让风雨变为它成长的画笔，
在每一次搏击中，绘出更辽阔的天图，
在每一次颤抖中，学会用灵魂去飞翔。
它们在风中低吟，在雨中高歌，
不为赞美，只为存在的意义。
留下的轨迹，是一行无字的诗，
写给天空，也写给风。
风呵风，狂野如你，
为何却能在黄昏时温柔？
那一刻，鸟儿回望，
你仿佛不是力量，而是爱。
风与鸟儿，演绎着蓝天之恋，
一个流浪，一个守候，
在高空中彼此追逐，彼此成就，
他们在天地之间，写下最唯美的宿命。
这里书写的，是风的誓言，鸟的梦，
也是自然最浪漫的诗。
The wind awakens in the voiceless wild,
Surges through mountain crests and forest deep,
Refusing tether to any earthly bound,
Yet tenderly caresses leaf and plume asleep.
Birds chase the wind's unseen direction,
As if pursuing tales that never fade,
Impulsively unfurling wings' reflection,
No thought of return, in wild dance unafraid.
The wind, at times as gentle as love's own hand,
Brushes soft on feathers, a whispered dream it seems;
Then wild as ocean's rage on startled land,
Rending the sky, snatching away cloud beams, testing the wings' strong gleams.
Birds fear no tempest, no torrential pour,
They let the storm their growing canvas grace,
In every striving flight, painting skies evermore,
In every tremor learned, to fly with soulful pace.
They hum in the wind's breath, in rain's downpour they soar,
Not for acclaim, but for the essence of their days.
The trails they leave, a poem without wordy lore,
Written to the heavens, and to the wind's wild ways.
Oh, wind, wild spirit, untamed and free,
Why such soft tenderness at twilight's hush?
In that still moment, the birds turn back to see,
You seem not might alone, but love's gentle blush.
Wind and the birds, a blue sky romance spun,
One a wanderer, one a steadfast stay,
In airy heights they chase till day is done,
In vast expanse, they shape each other's way.
Here is inscribed the wind's enduring plea, the birds' bright quest,
And nature's most lyrical poetry.
（作者 汪翔（美国）， 版权所有。转载请著名作者和出处。 2025年5月12号）