A light tap in my shoulder sends its warmth.
Just like the wood that crackles in the hearth.
My proud self gave in to its aroma.
Never enter the dark, scary room,
And trigger not the sealed hidden unknown.
For forbidden ecstasy I shall own,
And let the fallen leaf live in winter.
As the chilly breeze carried winter,
The warmth of hearth was replaced by shiver.
The kindled fire vanished without a trace.
How tricky can this bully season be?
Now that I'm dragged and looking for its warmth,
fire is out and only ashes remain.
Not saying goodbye, just silent farewell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem