Summer is loosening its hold on Nature's canvas,
As all of its warm colours are melting into
The solemn ochres of autumn; which in turn will
Transmogrify into the bleak whites of winter.
This September light is decidedly dream - like.
Although there is now a certain chill in the air,
I can still perceive subtle glints of gold and green,
As the sun intermingles languidly with grass
And trees in the late afternoon under deep blue
Skies that seem ripe with endless possibilities.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem