It's almost winter... But the birches
don't want to hear this, it seems.
And with gold hair quietly drop the tears,
And blame first snow and rain in noise of wind -
not a long time is left for them to show off
and to be flaunting there in golden dress.
And what tomorrow will be falling -
is not the snow, but the last Leaf from them.
This is such a tender poem. It contrasts the fragility of the birches with the brute force of winter. But you don't dwell on the negative but rather celebrate those sweet closing gestures of the birch just on the edge of the season. I expected snow to be the last image, and you surprised me with the closing image of a leaf falling. That is simply splendid! We have birch groves in Minnesota which are so lovely.
And what tomorrow will be falling - is not the snow, but the last Leaf form them. Sublime. Unexpected ending that made it extraordinary. loved it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a beautiful poem having deep meaning with nature and life. Most important lines are- - -And what tomorrow will be falling - is not the snow, but the last Leaf from them.