Like shattered glass on old autumn's leaves
The yellow brown reddish yesterday's gold
Through mystery air green branches cleaves
Whiles are passing where dreams did unfold
Secret passageways endless motion
Where deep of memories rises and falls
Times going by with summer's emotions
In to the starry nights of winter's calls
Here I am standing clear and young again
Finding the flow where the river reveals
Staring with my eyes though time's portico
'Life's a birth through the instants madeleine'
Some of it's tasteful - in its conceals
Voluptuous - not for too long - down this row
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem is very God It is very intering Because 4 years ago I wrote a poem Called Broken Glass It is a metaphor