Soundless grey of the thunderstorm clouds,Reflecting in mirror of swamp,Gifted the splashes of heatlightnings to Earth,Enraptured by the silence of forestGusts of the wind penetrated to whereOnly the leaves falling [bad word] of moss were scalded by sorrowIn quiet swamps desolationBreaking the silence   thunder was roarAcclaiming the storm arrivalStanding benumbed, the wood became dumb,Awaiting the first raindrop ringing With [bad word] of hundreds of thousands stonesThe water momentary started to flow forth  Bursting with storming blizzard,Wind [bad word] the secular oblivionGushing in torrents, the downpour fell,Sweeping away the bliss of calmStorming was roaring, howling wild,Burying the former unhurriness Where are roots now? Where are crowns of trees?Their web pattern is everywhere nowWhere the peace and calm were immortalized  Only [bad word] and devastation remained