Leaves at the End of Spring Ah, Magnolia, your leaves! How beautiful they are when they have only just begun to grow old. How different the fading of your leaves is. They do not turn yellow— they become a rainbow. And then the time comes. They fall from the tree, because there is no longer a place for them upon its branches. And after they fall to the earth, they lose their colors. Yet when I pass by you, I can feel your cry rising from the ground: I am beautiful! Look at me! You are strange, and yet beautiful. Beautiful and strange. Your leaves cannot remain upon the tree, nor can they keep their colors upon the earth. Their beauty is captivating only in that fleeting moment between leaving the branch and falling to the ground. How extraordinary you are, Magnolia! Even the death of your leaves is unlike that of other trees. You are born in spring, and in spring, you die. Ah, Magnolia! Arezoo M. Fard