The leaves upon the maple tree
are tussled by the wind's gentle rustle
revealing a reversed dull underside
like cloth swatches caught in a playful scuffle
Mother told me many years ago...
that when breezes turn leaves over
exposing their soft dull velvet side;
a sunny day will ultimately have closure
Soon the sky will become overcast
and the clouds will fill with rain
Remember the sincerity of this prediction
when raindrops spatter on the windowpane
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem