The Sorrowful Forest

The arid forest's grounds are paved with dry and riddish leaves that the whimsical wind loves to take off the shivering sages! Whoever hears the cries of the ravens is a soul that sympathizes their agony; they have sought consolation,but found pity... in that heart ardently singing praises! The swirling November's raindrops land on the thirsty and light foilage... without the strenght in their rage; Nature ashamed to flaunt her diamonds that nourished and embellished her tree-tops: Nature retrieved to her dormant state! A gloomy day for the angry shrikes that seem ample... waging war with the presumptuous thrush that throws glances by flapping his long wings; an unexpected lightning strikes the growing maple, pulling it from its roots,making those shrikes dash... birds have better instincts that human beings! I witness the wrath of the squall... bringing down a centenary oak, which is flung across before a hard fall; I,enfeebled but not frightened,make my oath underneath a sorrowful forest... as dark as a secret put to rest!