Autumns gold and green,
is a joy to behold,
swirling mist shrouding the land,
as the heron surveys rich pickings below,
we will walk out to winter,
dressed in white and ready for the long sleep
Nature can be a cruel mistress when provoked,
but I remain calm in her serene beauty all the same
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem