Dried leaves blankets the earth,
Seems to wrap up the aging world
Devoid of the grace of colours;
Like peacocks and the beauty they hold
So still then I searched for the sun,
Like her dog sniff for life in her cold bed;
But she's become autumn's new daughter
And she, held by her wrinkled hand, was led;
To wander hand in hand with autumn and her sadness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely done. Thanks for sharing.