Hayyim Nahman Bialik

Radi, Volhynia
Hayyim Nahman Bialik
Radi, Volhynia
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Summer Is Dying

Rating: 3.6
Summer is dying in the purple and gold and russet
of the falling leaves of the wood,
and the sunset clouds are dying
in their own blood.

In the emptying public gardens
the last strollers break their walk
to lift their eyes and follow
the flight of the last stork.

The heart is orphaned. Soon
the cold rains will be drumming.
'Have you patched your coat for winter!
Stocked potatoes against its coming?'
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COMMENTS
Dan Yaron 22 June 2007
This is a bearable translation for a bearable poem.
1 1 Reply

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