In its battle with October
The wriggling emerald foliage
Lost its chlorophyll.
Now
Glittering copper leaves wiggle
Wave their wrinkled wings
In the wandering wind.
Soon
Cold crystal hexagons
Of pristine snow
Will descend from the sky
Carrying the wordless promise
Of a returning verdant spring.
The Sun will shine
The snow will melt
And the tree leaves
Will burst out
From their buds
In spite of
The persistent rumor
That past happenings
Are not evidence
Of future events.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
carrying the wordless promise, good one.