It's all-too-easy to ignore poetry not written in one's own language, but it's a great loss.
This poem was originally written in Yiddish by a Moldovan, Jacob Fichman.
Here's the first verse, the title of which translates as Silent, Silent, Evening Wind.
And there we are: the idea that different times of day might have different winds is already something new as far as I'm concerned.
Silent, silent evening wind
you are coming from afar.
You come from the endless steppes.
You come from the seas which have no end.
Where the grasses sway back and forth;
where the waves whisper to each other.
The whole of this short poem, which is so sad and yet so hopeful at the same time, can be found HERE, both in English and in the original Yiddish.
Word To Use Today: Yiddish. This word comes from the German Jude, which means Jew.