AUTUMN PASTORAL
In the October sky the clouds that walk
with a slow turn simulate frets,
and Phoebe, in the sapphire blue pool,
sees her round freckled face.
Twisted and twisted branches tremble
there in the desolate and barren retreat
and the misty wind sighs
which causes dry leaves to crackle abruptly.
Juan B. Delgado
Translation by www.poesi.as