A golden leaf falls to the ground,
As she, the tree, now sheds a tear;
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
A lifeless frond, now crisp and browned,
No longer green this time of year;
A golden leaf falls to the ground.
With tumult blowing all around
The leafy laden atmosphere,
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
Then gently floating downward bound
Rustic, wrinkled, dishevelled, sere;
A golden leaf falls to the ground.
Soon to rest, whereupon is drowned,
In a pool of foliage, near;
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
So, Autumn chills will sweep profound
And frantic winds at last appear;
A golden leaf falls to the ground
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem