Listless and leafless stands the tree outside;
It is an autumn.
Listless and graceless sleeps my wife;
She is in her autumn.
I see the apples yielded by the tree;
They are red and fresh.
I see the daughters delivered by her;
They are lash and fresh.
The tree doesn’t look barren.
So is my wife to me.
Her green shades from her yellow.
23.07.2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem