‘WHERE shall we go for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year,
When the burnt-up banks are yellow and sad,
When the boughs are yellow and sere?
Where are the old ones that once we had,
And when are the new ones near?
What shall we do for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year?’
‘Child! can I tell where the garlands go?
Can I say where the lost leaves veer
On the brown-burnt banks, when the wild winds blow,
When they drift through the dead-wood drear?
Girl! when the garlands of next year glow,
You may gather again, my dear—
But I go where the last year’s lost leaves go
At the falling of the year.’
I am enthralled by this poet's voice. He lived so long ago, his verse should be archaic but it reads so smooth and carries such beauty and emotion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Adam Lindsay Gordon wrote with rhyme, rhythm and his verses were metered... hallmark of a great classical poet.