Leaves Have Flown

The leaves are flying from the trees,

A world repeating what fate now decrees.

Don't mourn the leaves that scatter on the breeze,

Nor grieve the end of summer's faded dreams.

Oh, don't you shed a tear for fading gold,

But mourn this love of mine, a story left untold.

Yes, mourn my heart and my devoted plea,

This fragile bond that broke between you and me.




Oh, the leaves have flown from poplar trees,

Just like our whispered hopes upon the breeze.

They scattered with the autumn's gentle sigh,

Like fragile moments, drifting swiftly by.

Don't shed a tear for seasons turning grey,

But mourn the tender love that slipped away.

For in this world, where beauty lives and dies,

It's for my vanished love my spirit cries.







The winter comes, a silent, shrouding sheet,

Covering paths where we once walked, so sweet.

I try to make my memories soft and light,

But every silent moment fills the empty night.

For though the world keeps turning round and round,

A deeper sorrow now is always found.

It's not the changing seasons I deplore,

But what we are, my love, no more, no more.
















The leaves have flown from poplar trees,

The leaves have flown...

Just like our fragile memories,

Leaving hearts alone.







Oh, the leaves have flown from poplar trees,

Just like our whispered hopes upon the breeze.

They scattered with the autumn's gentle sigh,

Like fragile moments, drifting swiftly by.

Don't shed a tear for seasons turning grey,

But mourn the tender love that slipped away.

For in this world, where beauty lives and dies,

It's for my vanished love my spirit cries.







The leaves have flown from poplar trees...

The leaves have flown...

My love, my love...