‘ Tis autumn's one remark;
‘Till I be in the spring,
Or summer's height of merry,
Or winter's wandering —
I'll be a conscious fellow,
Capricious at best —
By stealing all the yellow,
The brown, the red, The west!
And if the lonely robin
Put in my lonely leaf
Steadfast my count of auburn —
Replenish — I… a thief!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderfully penned verse, Rich, with images that linger in the mind. Great job! : -)