Crisp leaves tumble, red and gold,
Squirrels dart with antics bold.
Leaping, spinning, swift and free,
A woodland dance of jubilee.
Through the piles they twist and twirl,
Tiny acrobats in a swirl.
Nuts are found and hidden away,
Autumn laughter fills the day.
Whiskered noses, tails held high,
Chasing shadows as they fly.
Through every leaf and golden beam,
They tumble, leap, and chase their dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem