THERE'S A WIND BLOWIN' WEST


There's a wind blowin' west with the force of a gale.
I'm caught up in its might and can hardly inhale.
It's a force without number, and I'm on the run
in pursuit of the stars and a place in the sun.

It's a blast with a shower that floods by the quarts.
It's a cherubim power that hails and exhorts.
The mast seems to break as I'm raising my sail
'gainst the wind blowin' west with the force of a gale.

The wind is so hot, and it doesn't recoil.
It's enough to bring all seven seas to a boil.
My blood is on fire, and so is my will.
There's a wind blowin' west, and it gives me a thrill.

The planet is spinning, and so is the sky.
I'm ready to move, and my spirits are high.
I'm preparing to jump and reach out for the tail
of the wind blowin' west with the force of a gale.

There's a wind blowin' west, and it's knockin' down walls
from the Caspian Sea to Niagara Falls.
It's increasing its power, and I'm in its grip
as I'm trying to patch up a durable ship.

It roars like a titan; it whispers like leaves.
It strikes with a shockwave; it coaxes and heaves.
It's alive with wild action, attuned to the force
that's keeping the planets and fixed stars on course.

Spiritual beings are whipping up dust,
and creatures emerge from the earth's lower crust.
The forests bend over; the heavens are pale
There's a wind blowin' west with the force of a gale.

The wind keeps on blowing; it will not abate.
It's of cosmic dimensions; it designates fate.
It's created by archangels, teeming with ghosts
as it's stirring up oceans and ravishing coasts.

There's a wind blowin' west with the force of a gale.
I'm caught up in its might and can hardly inhale.
It's a force without number, and I'm on the run
in pursuit of the stars and a place in the sun.

- Tarjei Straume, Oslo 1990

 

 

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