I have never felt the chill of winter Nor the birth of spring Only the two faces of Nature The golden sun shining Or the heavens openly weeping.
But I have seen autumn As I looked at her No cold winter in her smile A promise of summer in her eyes Her hair of autumn leaves.
I have never felt autumn But I have seen it It’s the canvass of Rembrandt Dark, red, crimson, gold But I have never felt it.
Is the autumn breeze damp and soft like her lips? Is the autumn sky naked and warm like her skin? But I have never kissed her lips nor touched her skin I have only seen autumn But I have never felt it.
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I have never felt the chill of winter
Nor the birth of spring
Only the two faces of Nature
The golden sun shining
Or the heavens openly weeping.
But I have seen autumn
As I looked at her
No cold winter in her smile
A promise of summer in her eyes
Her hair of autumn leaves.
I have never felt autumn
But I have seen it
It’s the canvass of Rembrandt
Dark, red, crimson, gold
But I have never felt it.
Is the autumn breeze damp and soft like her lips?
Is the autumn sky naked and warm like her skin?
But I have never kissed her lips nor touched her skin
I have only seen autumn
But I have never felt it.
Shogunoka Ledesma III
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