<<夏天的味道>>the smell of summer:
the wind flows beside my feet
and makes me yearn for the smell of summer
I love your smile seriously
the leaves are falling when autumn comes
nobody can know my sadness
without you I think there is nothing left with me
the wind goes into my clothes
my bag is filled with loneliness
I love your smell so seriously
It makes me troublesome with missing you
I thought that you have known the smell of summer
I never forget the smell
Please give me the most clearest signal
Then I will go away without disturbing you
It is more usefull of holding you
I never forget your goodness
the mat was wet with my tears and I suffered from the
loneliness of night
you are in the castle while I am living in the cachot
trees
joyce kilmer 樹
菊葉斯·基爾默
i think that i shall never see
a poem lovely as a tree.
a tree whose hungry mouth is prest
againsr the earth's sweet flowing breast;
a tree that looks at god all day,
and lifts her leafy arms to pry;
a tree that may in summer wear
a nest of robins in her hair;
upon whose bosom snow has lain;
who intimately lives with rain.
poems are made by fools like me,
but only god can make a tree
<<夏天的味道>>the smell of summer:
the wind flows beside my feet
and makes me yearn for the smell of summer
I love your smile seriously
the leaves are falling when autumn comes
nobody can know my sadness
without you I think there is nothing left with me
the wind goes into my clothes
my bag is filled with loneliness
I love your smell so seriously
It makes me troublesome with missing you
I thought that you have known the smell of summer
I never forget the smell
Please give me the most clearest signal
Then I will go away without disturbing you
It is more usefull of holding you
I never forget your goodness
the mat was wet with my tears and I suffered from the
loneliness of night
you are in the castle while I am living in the cachot
trees
joyce kilmer 樹
菊葉斯·基爾默
i think that i shall never see
a poem lovely as a tree.
a tree whose hungry mouth is prest
againsr the earth's sweet flowing breast;
a tree that looks at god all day,
and lifts her leafy arms to pry;
a tree that may in summer wear
a nest of robins in her hair;
upon whose bosom snow has lain;
who intimately lives with rain.
poems are made by fools like me,
but only god can make a tree