Autumn Song

Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
The wild wind blows in a cloud.
Hark to a voice that is calling
To my heart in the voice of the wind:
My heart is weary and sad and alone,
For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, And why should I stay behind?

-          Sarojini Naidu
(1879 – 1949)
from The Golden Threshold

little birdie’s autumn song by *AsBeautyDies