In a shadowy wooded knell
where elves likely dwell
yellow leaves flutter
gently to the soil
make no sound
tread softly
rest awhile in shady grove
autumn leaves aglow
in a nearby tree
a dove mourns low
it senses cold winter's
embrace
all is quiet
snow falling muffles
death is nigh
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You present a plenitude of images which arouses one's imagination inviting one to calmly survey the scenery - but not for long. The final line is unexpectant and quite shatering.