Leaves falling in a faint breeze make a slanted line;
They remind me of moments I've had to let go of.
I want to trace them back like climbing stairs
Beckoned by surprises marked in blazing color,
From sated hunger to comforts of friendship
And higher than that I'll reach a perch,
From which birds launch their flights,
And there is a landscape to survey.
Though not quite wing-shaped
Leaves tend to linger in air,
Especially if the day is quiet.
If only my wishes tread lightly,
This stairway of pleasures will hold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem