September breezes blow
Skies turn darkest grey.
Rivers overflow
And love is faraway.
What is he living for?
Life holds no joy within,
No child saying 'daddy'
No championship to win.
His debts are growing still,
He totalled up the score
And yesterday the bailiffs came
Knocking on his door.
Ah, but where there's music
And songs in bright array
Melodies fall upon his ear
And the day's a Holy day.
Recitals and Sonatas
'The Shadow of Your Smile'
Guitars that echo from afar
And he can smile for awhile.
September's back in style.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem