The Sound of Autumn
The youth get old quickly while learning goes slowly,
Of even a single minute or second we can’t make light.
When in dreamlike spring we still indulge contentedly,
Susurrus leaves of phoenix trees touch the steps in sight.
(tran.)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
