Whispering the Words On the Street Goes Through

Sometimes Loudly Sometimes Silently Yellow leaves have fallen, Becoming dry Pale Passing through as the grained Sound on the Street Slowly dark flees across the evenings What an Illusion! What Shadows! Has Shuffled The Past Present Future Your form that creates metaphors And what a wonderful feel Through out its gravity Night dancing, When aroma of Night-Queen Moving in the air, Plays with the moonlit As if Reminds The First love Poem Has burned within the form Standing to fascinate Away, a dense bunch Of vine Forest Bored Air moving Listening the murmur Of dried leaves In the passing wind of banner As if Someone Calling with My old name Empty Restless Heart Today is the tune that somewhere else Like a flow Of a distant river melody, Surging waves of the attack In the Strange night of Spring Continuous grey leaves falling Falling on the Floor Whispering the words on the street goes through What an Illusion! What Shadows!