The raindrops make a weave like any spider web
To keep hanging the walking sadness in the air.
On cobbled streets, the people hear the music ebb.
The clouds are choleric dreams in the sunny glare.
Some pieces of lost, shattered happiness can glean.
The light still coils like a strange snake in the blue sky.
Beckoning the stubborn sunbeams for the life green,
The whisper of the gale becomes the widow's cry.
The rain stops placidly amid the noisy dreams
And nature's fears may disappear in ignorance.
Maybe new buds still wait on the maternal limbs,
But autumn's milky green becomes a remembrance.
Poem by Marieta Maglas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is a beautiful painting of nature adding the colour of emotions also....