Sing me a song I can hardly remember,
Ravishing song of mysterious eve —
Something about the end of September
Somewhere we used to live.
Maples and oaks are covered with golden
Manifold hues — from light yellow to purple...
Beauty of dying. No reason to call them.
Odors of river and apple.
Too far away to imagine that silence
Here, on opposite side of the Earth,
That inexplicable, thoughtless alliance:
Lifelessness — yesterday's breath...