As the lush green dream,
Turns colors,
And the imagination wonders,
How vivid it is,
The hot steal air,
Is lost now,
Replaced by,
The cool crisp sheen,
Of the sun light shown,
Upon the soon to be,
Wispy forest.
The trees without leaves,
Look naked.
The coverage is gone,
Temporally.
The green will once again come.
As it is with the loss of what’s was there.
The lament of a seasons change,
Will be replaced by renewed.
But the loss remains,
Of the beauty that was there.
Seeing with the eyes,
As if touching with the most tender touch.
What ends is renewed,
But he moments of gaze upon,
What was there,
Is replaced with experience,
Change occurs to be known,
That the love for green,
Has been replace by the autumn color,
To be replaced by the barren muse,
So that what is missing will spring again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love your poem, it's great