Stealthily with whispers sweet,
The Fall crept in
On silent feet,
The valiant leaves
Of verdant green
Fell to the siege
Of icy wind;
I knew it not
As battle waged
In the darkness,
A field of graves;
I slept warm
Beneath the folds,
Not noticing
The trees turned gold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem