dead leaves are scattered everywhere
under the trees
surrounding this old house where we live
unswept and piling up like some layers
of our memories
some rotten some cracking some turning to dust
the snakes learn to hide there
making their home
and some worms and some rats and some seeds
begin to sprout
when it begins to rain again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem