The leaves are greener on a rainy day,
a world of darkness given a new light.
There is no chance to push my pain away
as you creep closer toward the quiet Night.
A shining figure, heart of purest gold,
now sunken, sullen, just a shell remains.
Sitting, watching, I am softly told,
'It won't be long; thank God there is no pain.'
The leaves are greener on a rainy day,
the Earth so still while being born anew.
You vanish in the mother's month of May
as new life springs-but life that's lacking you.
A mother Sleeping, children gathered 'round,
we are a mass of tears and soft goodbyes.
Escaping from her lips, no breath, no sound-
God's lifted up her soul and closed her eyes.
The leaves are greener on a rainy day,
a paradox of hope surrounds the grief.
A forest shakes, as if it yearns to say,
'I got my strength from this one constant Leaf.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem