1. Autumn nearly died like my death
With the falling of leaves and sighs

2. I am its brother in my despair and agony
Its gasps derived from my gasps

3. If I inherit it with its prose and poetry
Or lament it, for I have wept my life away

4. It did not know those who were infatuated with the splendor
Of summer cavorting like a heedless king

5. If the progeny of summer were not tied to it
The flaw of the despicable, shameless ego

6. It has known asceticism since the day it was born
As though it pictured revelations of my prayers

7. And welcomed the storm fearlessly
While it, the stricken elder, was amidst the slain

8. It took struggle as its founding principle
And refused the humility of death at its demise

9. If I resemble it, such is my zeal
Despite the illness and yellowness of the deceased

10. Malady upon malady I stoop under its burden
And remain mocking the coming winter

11. If in autumn’s tears are my tears
Or its moans are my moans

12. Beyond them is the will of each lowlife
And if they poured and resonated dementedly

13. And if warmth turned away from it as turned away
Warmth that hides in the prohibition of atoms

14. And death is of the images of life and its mystery
The mystery of existence and the verse of verses

15. If you move away, O my imagination, I am not one who leaves
As long as you live in my essence and self

16. The branches gestured to me, and that is a crime
And they looked to my sins in the forests

17. It is as though I am the one extending their roots
With my feelings, so they become strong without protectors

18. Barren as pure art is their understanding
It has delved into the essence and transcended traits

19. Except with an equal who reciprocates their passion
So their languages are connected to my languages

20. The croaking of frogs fell silent and sufficed
With my sins above the grass listening

21. And the bees take shelter in the hive happily
As though the nectar is in my gaze

22. My God, how much rapport has creation made
Even with the trees and insects