Dead Societies

         Dead Societies  lively stories

_luna_ ˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙ǝɯıʇ ʞɔɐq uɹnʇ plnoɔ ǝʍ ɥsıʍ
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
Winter is to the trees The season of much sufferings in chill

Dead Societies

Winter is to the trees

The season of much sufferings in chill

Cold north wind blows

To fall down the degrees in the scale,

Leaves fall gradually

To make the thick dead beds under,

Then hawks the cold thunder

All the season round,

Trees wait for long and long

Till comes the spring,

But humans live here in dead societies

With all the arrangements

To make much pleasure

Throughout the winter happily

Eating, chatting, gossiping, gathering

Walking, wanton loving, cohabiting

No thought, no God in their heart

Life is nothing but enjoyment;

Mist, fog and snow cover

The standing naked trees,

Birds being frightened flee from the dead land

And go to the land of spring to sing for life

Where lively wind from all directions blows

To wake the dead bodies

In new lives with soft touch

Of new leaves, new flowers and new fruits,

Birds, butterflies, bees fly

Around the flowers under the colorful sky,

Tender grasses grow

By the spring of new flow,

Herd of gazelles grazes

Heart of nature flashes,

Contemplations rising spring

In enchanting sphere of beautiful sights;

In running nature

Winter and spring go side by side,

In stagnant societies

No such changes in humans can be found.

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