Words fall like leaves tumbling from autumn trees
In a miraid of colours they flutter on the breeze
To describe the seasons in words
lifts the heart to soar like a flock of birds
Primroses blosssoming on the verges
Spring is in the process of emeging
Sunday heralds British Summertime
Hold your breathe for sunshine sublime
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem