Naked trees forced
to face the cold winter days
The deadness of the grass
an optical illusion
And dreary the cloud cover
lingering like a footstep
stuck in the mud
Its a time
when reflection in the mirror
tells the truth
The moon big
and yellow like a giant
egg yoke
The river chasing the
wind into another season
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Time, seasons, the elements...chasing ambitions. Awesome poem.