Upon the stage of life,
autumn's play unfolds,
A tapestry of hues adorns the trees,
With whispered winds,
the loo leaves descend in grace,
In nature's choreography,
My tales are told,
The sun recedes, and cooler airs appease,
As days grow shorter,
time sets a swift pace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice poem, Richard. It would have been even better if you had actually written it in iambic pentameter, since you had that as part of the title.