I walk on rusty leaves, which now are dead,
And leave behind the trees scratching the sky
A thousand words are rushing through my head
That lovingly we uttered, you and I.
The leaves are rustling and they seem to crawl
Under my feet, which crush them with their weight
I have no aim, I just want to recall
How blessed we've been by our earthly fate.
Because it didn't give us wealth and fame
Or other things that people do enjoy,
However, it ignited our flame
By sending us a lovely little boy.
And when we're old and gray and without scope
It doesn't matter if he says good bye,
Because, like all the parents, we shall hope
To see him one more time before we die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem