autumn comes in late rushes
in the warm moist wind
if you've been here long enough
you sense a change
intuition says the air is more sensible
this time of year
cooler temperaments will prevail
hurricanes are exhausted
in a few weeks the birds will come
blackbird and warbler
like refugees of the bleak cold north
they speak of fate
they speak of time's falling leaves
in a mimicry of death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem