Chrysanthemums are flowering in autumn and the faded leaves of flamboyant trees blown with the autumn winds.
The time has come to whitewash the churchyard tombs and I can hear my chum's silent song like a chirping.
A far smoke is carrying off from a chimney.
This gloomy evening an old lady is picking some fallen leaves in the garden and the sun's last light focused on my window.
Suddenly I closed as the mosquito soldiers try to invade my room.
nimal dunuhinga
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-chimes-of-twilight/
