Longİ Ng Through The Seasons Poem by Metin Sahin

ARE WE CHANGİ NG...or the seasons...the last leaves of the trees...tend no to fall from the trees...the last flowers of fall tend not to bloom again.....are we changing or the seasons...are we changing or the seasons...happy tiny fingers caress the whiteness of the falling snow near the window pane...at the other side...bare feet are shivering in the snow...as though match seller girl of andersen has revived again..some people are begging in the wilderness for piece of bread..are we cahanging or the seasons..an old woman her hair bleached by snow opening her hand..for a stand...are we chaNGİ NG OR THE SEASONS....the last flowers of the seasons of the seasons tend not to bloom again...I envy the struggle between the seasons for being and overwhelming....and when every season changes...I long for a new fresh life and world towards goodnes...beauty...peace and brother hood.............