Falling, falling…
Slowly, slowly…
Down and down
Liquid gold, frozen fire and crushed ruby.
They fall down this time every year,
Leaves I mean, from their own trees,
Which look after all naked and poor.
No light from above,
No food in beneath,
Grey skies only and thick clouds dominating the atmosphere.
Is nature a cruel mother?
I do not know and I do not want an answer, I tell you.
The answer can be even tougher and cooler.

Leaves fall down with unseen pain.
They suffer before they fall.
(All of us under strain, sigh, sweet and suffer)
They are deaf. They do not shout or complain.
Can I compare myself with them?
Well, I also silently suffer
Although I am not dumb or sla0in,
I can love and I can hate.
Moreover, I have pain in my heart and head
And a large black stain somewhere inside my brain.
Yet I do not complain.
(Bravo good chap! Maintain)
(You do not need to explain).
I fall down several times a year,
Like a circus clown,
Losing my consciousness and some of my weight.
Losing my color and my national face.
This is, really, a big difference…, congratulations…,
Between a plant and a semi-dead man who lost his state
And can neither boldly dash forward nor can return.

O, o, I got it. I can see
Although a short sighted man I am.
I use contact lenses and anti UV glasses just to obtain
A slight protection against the sun.

Shall it, my brain, accept defeat
Or survive without energy or heat?
Beat the bell of life, beat, beat.

Plants are therefore, better than most of us.
They have, at least, their own fixed field
And known seat.
They willingly offer food to birds and shadow to beasts,
Whereas we, human beings, eat each other
And never stop to eat.

Beat the knell of life. Beat, beat.
 

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