Do you see

Ser du dessa vissna löv,
vissna löv i vinden -
så är jag ett visset löv,
visset löv i vinden -
Döden skall mig fatta
I sin gamla kratta -
...Åh, jag är väl ännu röd,
ännu röd om kinden -
fast jag är ett visset löv,
visset löv i vinden.

Do you see these withered leaves,
withered leaves in the wind -
so am I a withered leaf,
withered leaf in the wind -
Death shall me gather
in his old rake -
...Oh, I am still rosy am I not,
rosy on the cheeks -
although I am a withered leaf,
withered leaf in the wind.

Nils Ferlin, 1933, Songs of a Deathdancer

I don't mean to be morbid, I just like this poem and was reminded of it when I found the first maple autumn leaf today. Autumn brings that kind of melancholy vibe doesn't it, stripping away and going inwards, leaving and letting go. I found this poem as a teenager and the tenderness combined with the frankness appeals to me. Life is frail and short and strong and full of potential at the same time. Also, I like the idea of being gathered into a rake held by a loving hand when my time is up.

Comments

[Angie]

Lovely :-)