Why should I be the first to fall Of all the leaves on this old tree? Though sadly soon I know that all Will lose their hold and follow me. While my birth-brothers bravely blow, Why should I be first to go?
Why should I be the last to cling Of all the leaves on this bleak bough? I've fluttered since the fire of Spring And I am worn and withered now. I would escape the Winter gale And sleep soft-silvered by a snail.
When swoop the legions of the snow To pitch their tents in roaring weather We fallen leaves will lie below And rot rejoicingly together; And from our rich and dark decay Will laugh our brothers of the May.
Beautiful tghought, my dear---And So Well Said!
ReplyDeleteSo true.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
ReplyDeleteLovely, Rain.
ReplyDeleteFacing life colors
ReplyDeletewith
cheerful equanimity
the tree
revels
in russets
and reds
and browns,
shining gold
in the early autumn sun.
There is no
regret
for the loss of green.
And she wonders
how to tell her daughters
that
if your mind remains green
you need
no other color
to beat
the passages of time
in your life.....
http://kavitalihi.blogspot.in/2012/08/evening-colors.html
ReplyDeleteFallen Leaves
ReplyDeleteWhy should I be the first to fall
Of all the leaves on this old tree?
Though sadly soon I know that all
Will lose their hold and follow me.
While my birth-brothers bravely blow,
Why should I be first to go?
Why should I be the last to cling
Of all the leaves on this bleak bough?
I've fluttered since the fire of Spring
And I am worn and withered now.
I would escape the Winter gale
And sleep soft-silvered by a snail.
When swoop the legions of the snow
To pitch their tents in roaring weather
We fallen leaves will lie below
And rot rejoicingly together;
And from our rich and dark decay
Will laugh our brothers of the May.
--Robert William Service
Thanks Ugich and Tara. I love it when something inspires others to share a different angle. Wonderful!
ReplyDelete