Beneath the leaves
Of an amber autumn
I hide myself, deep away
At the foot of the trees
Colors above
That sway in the soft breeze
But I can see only one
The branch of the turtle dove
This cool autumn
Has taken away love
And has thrown it from the trees
It rests at the bottom
So far from here
Over the fields of cotton
The small white turtle doves fly
A journey lasting years
A time has passed
I can think without tears
Back to the amber autumn
That now rests in the past
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wistful, romantic, tender... moving poem David. This is fine poetry!