Withered leaves, descending shrewdly
From sturdy old senior tree
High in the midst of peaceful, cool nature
Each and every leaf passing on
Whispering and stirring a calming sound
Of radiant, dry, early day
To this lower world a turning
Its faltering parachute winging
Gently whirling round and round
Dropping to the delicate padded ground
© daniel miltz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem