IN SEPTEMBER… <br /> <br /> <br />In September, <br />When the plane-tree <br />Is a proud sight, <br />And when its short-lived, <br />Yellow grief <br />Goes with the wind, <br />It stands there <br />With its bare hands <br />Raised to the sky, <br />All frozen and chilled, <br />And begs the sun <br />To restore it to life. <br /> <br />Translated from Georgian<br /><br />Tsira Gogeshvili<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-september-3/
