This garden is invisible to me
As a whole,
When I'm inside of it
To walk under its trees.
All I can do
Is to smell
Its unique natural flowers,
And to eat its fruits,
But when I get out
To look at it, at some distance
On that hill,
I can see it
In its entire splendor
In the early evening of a brilliant, orange-red
Autumn.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
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