slowly now
will the leaves
fall on the ground
without a whisper
and so will
the wind
blow an icy breath
that will chill
the bones
and silently
the setting Light
will explode
in flaming hues
in the darkened West
in solitude
a wandering soul
will stop in his path
to lay himself
on the leaves
to embrace the wind
to gaze at the fading light
and find home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem, Richard...I love the last lines....