Of late
Sunlight seems to kiss, intently
the naked branches of trees
drowning bark
in a last lusty embrace
before the sun sets
on the last day of the Oak
Holly rears in the woods
A peacock
of twig and sap
luring the fickle sun
to crown winter’s bare brow
with rich leaves and fruit
winter’s liege
all trees to him
must bow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem