This life is a dry leaf
In the midst of spring;
The music is there played
By the wind but to the leaf
It can't much pleasure bring;
The life is a dry leaf
Fluttering in the branch
Of time and patiently waiting;
To be swept away into
Oblivion when the world
Revels in the warmth of spring;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
About the trancient nature of life. The Leaf metaphor-nice