Leaves are dancing, yet falling,
Winds are weak, but blowing;
Clouds are sunny, skies are gray,
Lilies are still and poised to pray;
Is it really time for snowing?
Perhaps rainy paves for draining?
No, it is just a somber summer,
When skins are dry, twigs slimmer;
But why the nights are longer?
And frozen wild dreams stronger?
Within my burning colder breast,
And steady, wiser mind unrest;
A shrieking voice from a nearby cave;
'Lo! harvest ended and I'm not save! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thought provoking, meaningful write!