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 "The Happy Fall"

When the cold wind shook the tree,
I, an apple, high and free,
Downwards gave to gravity.

Detached from that highest bough,
Worms ate my flesh hungrily;
No hope for help had I though
They left my seeds angrily.

Rains then came so gently down
And washed my seeds fairly deep;
Thus Nature Ma laid me sown
Deep in darkness for a sleep.

When out of soil I grew high,
I heard Cold Wind dully sigh:
"Oh, these apples never die!"


Ali Aizmi, Summer1382 


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