Autumn By Rainer Maria Wilke (1875-1926)

 

Tree leaves are falling, from grey sky,
as if orchards were aging quickly
without knowing why,
Each fallen leaf tells us that
death is the motion of “no”.
~
And tonight the heavy earth murmurs,
withdrawing from the milky way in loneliness.
~
Our hearts sink. our hands hand low,
Letting the weigh of maturity go.
~
Yet, there is someone, whose hands
are forever irony and steely,
withholding the stress from the Fall.