it a brown leaf.
it falls from a tall tree
and slowly it stops
at the bottom of the
road in Bankerohan...
it is a sunny day
for a week and the brown leaf
stays there
for there is no wind...
a beautiful maiden
picks it up one day... so crisp...
it crumples in her very own
hand...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem