The heart of the hills silent’s awakes, just stand and listen to trees and the birds sing that sweet mellows.
With the changing of the weather and seasons spring is about to fall off the trees.
As my restless finger squeeze between the leaves, I can see leaves hanging from the tip of the tree branch.
I close my eyes and smell the fresh breeze and listen to the love birds sing to each other.
With the leaves falling off and changing their colors, the blast of the sun light and drops of rains the leaves are reborn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem