No longer the leaves show their full summer green,
As this cool autumn day
Takes their own youth away
As it once did with me a long time ago...
As forty short years have now seen
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Green changes to gold, as now it must,
Though more subtle to see
(Floating down from a tree)
As it is with myself, as I know well;
Soon we will both (the leaves and I) turn to dust
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Resplendent leaves no longer steep in the sun;
As I walk down life's lane
With the wind and the rain
I see myself, see what I now am.
I see my own autumn has begun
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Wrinkled, and as delicate and brittle
As the twig and the nut,
As they snap underfoot,
They became so downtrodden
And are now applauded little
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Then suddenly appears a seasonal breeze;
Where it blows all around
Swirling there on the ground
And the frail, weak leaves are parted...
Stolen from their home in the trees
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

And as darkness falls o'er the wooded scar
The time is now nigh
For leaves to blow by...
To yield to a greater influence than I
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)
Yes, they are!