Streams of clouds, like boats
Floats across the ocean of blue sky
The autumn golden yellow leaves
They shine in triumphant glory.
Verily on the verge of its Death
Soon only, to wither and fall away.
Suddenly a wave of sadness overwhelmed my soul.
Grief inexplicable, beyond words to be told.
And with tireless eyes I probe, for a friendly face
In crowds of people, of our lonely human race
The last drop of day light
Was squeezed out from my sight.
Another nights falls - with a heavy heart
I lay my head down to rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Anthony, pay attention to grammar in your poems. Make sure the verb corresponds to the noun. To say 'the birds sings' can be a simple typo or a change partially executed, but if repeated, it screams Dilettante!