The leaves curl with the dusk of the day,
Like cats they coil and shrink;
They bend their green (or such) crowns as if to pray
And raise it not till the sky grows pink
When dawn breaks through the hazy night,
Like cats they stretch with an unsuppressed yawn
The tree seems unbent and increased in height
As if it had swollen in the pride of dawn
Then they bathe and lave in light shower
And dress in golden beams of the sun
Until they glitter and gleam and glower
And their prayers are undone
What if they said:
“Oh Lord, give us beauty,
So we may remind your slave of his debt to You;
And he may remember his Holy duty
To stay a servant steadfast and true”.
What if they said:
“Oh Lord, give us life after sleep takes us away,
But then let us wilt to yellow then black,
So man may bear in mind the patent end to his worldly stay
And that at one point, there is no going back”.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Superb title and the content of your poem does not disappoint. I am glad to be acquainted with your work. Warm regards, Sandra