The swallows do this year late fly away,
like me in this land they want to stay
and the sight of them do this verse inspire,
a whole swarm of them sit outside on the wire,
there is a picture of you in my deepest memory
where we do the last days of autumn see
but your summer still does linger on
as if with your love even winter now is gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem