The Autumn leaves shift colors in the breeze
and some, above the land, will travel far
as whisperings inside the woods appease
through nature's flawlessness transmit, and mar.
Abundantly the light diffuses fore
the sun deluges neath the distant ridge
and offers the impression we lived yore,
October was, upon Longfellow bridge.
The twilights of the Autumn so expand
to hail the stars on Massachusetts towns;
my freshman attitude enfold, unplanned,
while lithe the night the street lights casts and crowns.
In darkness, still, the street lights blink before
the night retreats beneath the distant ridge
and offers the impression we lived yore,
October is, upon Longfellow bridge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem