A poem for Autumn

In preparing for my column today in the paper, I read several poems about autumn written my John Keats and Robert Frost to name a few. I was blown away by the word selection. The really good writers say so much with few words. They don't use tired analogies or metaphors, but dig a little deeper to find fresh ways to express ideas.
Below is a poem by Ahmet Faiz. Very nice indeed.

When Autumn Came
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz Translated by Naomi Lazard
This is the way that autumn came to the trees: it stripped them down to the skin, left their ebony bodies naked. It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves, scattered them over the ground. Anyone could trample them out of shape undisturbed by a single moan of protest. The birds that herald dreams were exiled from their song, each voice torn out of its throat. They dropped into the dust even before the hunter strung his bow. Oh, God of May have mercy. Bless these withered bodies with the passion of your resurrection; make their dead veins flow with blood again. Give some tree the gift of green again. Let one bird sing.