Leaves are falling slowly to the ground,
Coated in gold, yellow, and crimson as well,
A spectacular, yearly event presented by nature,
Bidding the summer days a glorious farewell.
Soon the tree branches will be barren,
The birds flock for their journey southward bound,
Gone is the splendor of the highlands,
Not a wild flower will be found.
The colorful and brisk days passing swiftly,
Just the memories of summer will remain,
Blustery wind and snowdrifts will prevail,
The Snowbirds and Cardinals appear again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem