A gust from the sea shook the tree
And the leaves fell one by one,
The wet roads greeted them well
And the end of my story has begun
As I ambled on them like farewell;
None will remember— me and you,
Someday we too will be gone
Like these mulberry leaves,
And then fresh leaves at dawn
Shall rise a bit above the grieves;
The rain has its petrichor at most
And my childhood flashes back,
The time will hit this mulberry tree
Closing my story in mid-track,
With another gust from the sea.