Here's to life and living, a summer hue,
and wish and want and given too
much of much and little of little
with a point that pierces smiles — brittle,
(for a point that ends is an end after all)
brittle — to shatter summer to fall
to landscape shades made dark by blue
passing right after a finer hue
then to darker shades made dark by grey
leaving life and living to wintry way
then Summer weighs into Winter's call
for a point that ends has no point at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem