(I am attempting to write this with my limited high school French from 40 years ago – any of you who speak French feel free to correct me.)
Une pomme, seul
dans le verger abandonné
rougissent pour l’hiver Ⓒ Patrick Blanche
souffle un vent froid à travers champs
gelée plumes des “guili” à nos
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One apple, alone
in the abandoned orchard
reddens for winter Ⓒ Patrick Blanche (Tr. Michael R. Burch)
cold winds blow across the fields
frost feathers tickle the leaves
Ada's Poetry Alcove (2) 
I love your French approach.
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Nice. I wasn’t brave enough to try it this way. (almost 50 years ago)
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