Mist falls,
Leaves fall,
Cold falls
During Fall
Autumn Tree
She has no power to yield
She shuts down her green
She flings her colours and fruits off,
In a selfish act, in the air
Let them dance and swing
Too dead yet unblemishedly fair
Within the West wind
Swing swing swing
Until they fall over the ground,
Over the rivers float
Green, red, orange and yellow
…
Paradise dwells earth for awhile.
S.C.P. Biba
So-called Poetry of Biba 