Oaken bearer; leaves decay.
Orange and crimson painted
though wanted, May.
Northern power,
nature like this resides.
Beautiful in the way it dies.
Unlike western forest framed
perpetual depravity.
Unalike to be reminded.
How homeward sand
and sweltered land
bequest by those
like-minded.
-j.broadway
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem