The darkness comes quick this time of year
while the sieving rain draws near
and almost lost
at times in the twilight it feels queer
In the woods there’s a cold wind that blows
under mountains white capped by snow
tossing leaves, stirring through trees
and I walk on a path that I know
The path meanders while nature goes to sleep
and to its track I try to keep
while in the bushes there’s something that’s awake
and I can feel glowing eyes that at me peep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem