See this burning season
glowing all around,
With tints of fallen yesterdays
a'pile upon the ground.
Grown cold from last remembered
Summer dies without a sound...
Show a hint of evening
sets a paler shade of light,
Slowly ever-fading into deepest night.
All golden, cool surrounding
and flush with crimson tides,
Swelled in full aroma
as fall alas now rides.
10-11-08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wisps of burning leaves curl into the skies , i can see this, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,10