The wind howls today
It protest of the winter coming
It shakes the coloring leaves
There will be none left
A sad feeling to see them fly
As for the life of them
Seeking some corner of shelter
Winter has turn his cheek
Busy gathering his gears
Storing plump clouds of ice
To shred for later blizzard fare
I shiver its thought
Wishing to fly with the foul
To sunshine warmth
But yet, I will stay
Bringing my coverlet about me
Pulling my chair close to the fire
Sipping from hot brews cups
In effort to appease the blood
Working to warm my toes
That are ever cold by this war..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem