The pre-winter is an anxious time.
Crawl, gathering of the shadow.
And flew over, saddened & nbsp; trees
On the street & nbsp; deserted & nbsp; & nbsp; village.
A & nbsp; I, as & nbsp; unsociable & nbsp; hermit,
As as if in something always guilty.
Delirium & nbsp; in graying & nbsp; spruce,
Which whitened frost & nbsp;shaggy.
So and & nbsp; & nbsp; live without & nbsp; regret,
Look at this white white light.
Calmed down in dusk village,
And swirled the first & nbsp; snow.