Sky as black as night.
Deers take a fright,
Birds take to the air in flight,
Not a single soul in sight.
Over meadows and streams,
Trees dangerously creak and sway,
What a storm to have in the middle of May!
As you watch,
Feeling the natures wrath.
White horse rise from the sea and crash towards the trembling shore,
Throw back their heads and roar.
At last the storm passes,
The cows resume grazing in the long grasses.
Nature seems to have its fill,
For now the plains are still.