The Leaves

Perhaps I've posted this before, but this time apropos to the weather (my favorite) and in thanks for four nights in a row of solid sleep...Leonid Martynov's (translated by moi)

The Leaves

They
Were laying
On the sidewalk

And suddenly
They went wild
And, changing their colors,
Began a magical dance.

I shouted:
"Who are you?"

"We're Leaves,
Leaves, Leaves, Leaves!"
They yelled back.
"We were dreaming of a landscape painter,
But the hand that held the brush
Didn't want to love us.
So we flew away,
Flew away!"

Comments

[Ana]

This poem is so very cool. Leaves, leaves, leaves! Aren't they mischievous.