Autumn Grief
Years pass, my hair gone white now.
Fall comes, leaves turning yellow.
I scratch my head, ask the yellow leaf—
Is it, too, cut by grief?
By Lu Lun translated by Mark Francis
Mountain MeditationA hundred years from now I won't be here
amid these trees aglow with morning light.
It is enough for me that they'll be here,
their leaves a nameless colour at this height.
By Leo Yankevich
4 comments:
Oh gee....I will be thinking of this poem now, as I watch the leaves change...
I think it's enough.
The music fits the poems well. Kind of an elegy to summer passing.
Still very much like summer where I am (California). Fall seems distant still.
Thanks for always posting poetry on your blog. I don't read enough poetry in everyday life. When I was in college majoring in
English it always seemed there was some poetry class that I had to read for... but now that I'm all grown up, I don't make time for poetry. I really should!
I don't see Autumn as an ending like so many do. I look at it like everything takes the whole rest of the year to gear up for this season, to show their glorious colors before they have to rest again for next year.
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