Hidden inside
we all have the desire to reach autumn
The gold and reds
a last languid thrust
Laughing deeper
Whispering unexpected love songs
The first leaves fall almost unnoticed
The sun obscuring the coolness
Skeletal bare branches rapping against the pain
A shame we ignore
Misty confusion, with no warmth for the bones
Winter is almost near
The burnishings of autumn decayed and forgotten
Grey days transform into dust
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem