Autumn (translation and poem)
The tree on the resplendent cliff Stands and trembles, in distress, Contend, will you not life of cliff, Afraid for the bitter death. Sore the complaints, sighs, and grumbles In from flowers, bush, foliage, The storm rages, the sea rumbles, No more songs, avian sage. The cold increases, the leaves... Sign in to see full entry.