Withered leaves rule the floor
read loudly its terms, donating blood
of dried veins
a romantic blasphemy,
without plan to stop and reflect
but as luck would have it,
the rain of leaves lays a carpet of love
to welcome even a monotonous heart
but to sweeper a nuisance
for he receives his wages
de die in diem,
on the day of fall
his broom sings a lot
but his face turns yellow like a fallen leaf
for burning extra calories. Only a keen eye
In a golden gown finds mother earth
coming out sighing but singing
a song of ‘fate' and calling us all
out of cozy chambers
to resonate:
"You all have to fall
like a fallen leaf
back to dust".
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem on season and nature having stunning expression with philosophical touch. Let me quote... ''You all have to fall like a fallen leaf back to dust. Thanks for sharing.