Today it catches me in a real feeling of the late autumn
Cold wind blows with the early winter's respiration
Leaves are turning dark brown
Golden luster on the trees is fading
Father did say
I was born in such a kind of day
Wind soughing cicada hiding away
So he gave me an infant name
Early Bud, my cute name
When you open, flower is coming
Father said, when flower comes, you're spring
It is so lovely to remember the Birthday from the father's (parents') words! Nice work!
Thank you for your nice comment.Sharing is the golden moment. Much appreciated.
Wonderful poem, I love how you use natures season's to mark the passage life through birth and birthdays.
Your nice comment always impressed me.Thank you.
This poem begins in late autumn which is already early winter but it ends with an image of spring, but time has not raced forward to the season of flowers. You are still in your birthday season of autumn; it is your thoughts that have raced into spring, as you remember your beloved father's tenderness in giving you a sweet name that expressed his joy in having you and giving you forever the gift of hope preserved in your name This poem is so wonderful, it is so heartfelt. Love criss-crosses time and threads together father and daughter; what is lost is found again every birthday; your father is as close to you as the sound of a voice saying your name.
Your words touched me again.Thank you for sharing a part of me through the poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Wow, so well thought and written, I liked the comments and commentary written by my learned friend Daniel.....Nothing to write after that.10+++