Falling leaves of maples and dreamy days
Feel the coming kisses of the winter.
nevertheless, the coldest soft embrace;
Come in young and beautiful, come enter.
Happiness tickles the rattling greens,
look at the shadows of oak and pine.
The windy breeze on which the branches lean,
remembering the boots that once were mine.
Later on frolicking on the wet leaves,
watching the season with my bare eyes.
Collecting piles of hundreds at ease,
all we do is collect our colors and our lives.
Following the path of the hollow lane,
I think september is all that remains.
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