The rosy hue of lovely bright spring,
The lively fragrancy flowers swing,
The divine joy cool breezes bring,
Songs cuckoos from quietude wring
And delicious feel fresh fruits hang
Vanished where in autumn's bang?
Heaven is now, sheer blank and blue
With cotton clouds in whitish glow,
The wind is dull, still and moves slow
And sticks to sleazy gloom like glue,
Where has gone all joy, none has clue,
Just time drags on and on to blank blue.
From the dark womb of autumn's swell
Dreams of new spring desperately spill
To backup my shrinking fatalistic will,
But, alas, uplift seems insurmountable hill
In convoluted wraps of autumn's swill
And spring recedes farther in pell-mell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem