Fall Iii Poem by Ruslan Kerimov
Fall Iii
The roads of life, they always wind,
They take me high and down,
And make my sleepy eyes snow-blind
With winter’s wedding gown.
In spring these roads make me feel
That I am getting old,
Young nature to my eyes reveals
A million blooms unfold.
It’s only autumn I admire
Its sadness and its gold,
When every tree plays me the lyre,
Though every tree is old!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/5/2026 11:51:14 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
