Oh darling sweet autumn
to the leaves that fall,
when the breeze will strum
its winter song call.
And wither leaves are falling
in aglow to the ground,
as going birds are calling
above in the sky here around.
When autumn is in red-golden colors
and wintry wind hollers and hollers!
And hollers...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem