The leaf was fluttering in the blowing wind,
Dying and falling to its ultimate grave.
Sad and lonely falling from the sky,
landed in the hands of that precious woman.
She looked it with her gentle eyes,
Her golden locks blew with the wind.
But her soft hands clenched it tight
With a smile on her beautiful face,
she looked up to the blue sky, and;
He looked down at his angel of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem