The leaves of autumn are pages of a book,
Take one leaf, watch it carefully,
Signs of Desperate Time you will read on it,
While its colours will attract you to Melancholy.

The winds of autumn are waves of a solitary ocean,
Catch their noisy meanders, smell their Cry,
Signs of Prized Dances you will read in their movements,
Our lips winding up, winding down on beloved fingers,
On the loved face.

The rains of autumn are curtains of cold waters
Drained in the loneliness of a soul.
Push away these strange rains,
They chide us for breathing the fresh air of love.

Gold fruit of love are nestled within us,
Look at the honeyed quinces, read their soft skin -
Infinities of sweet pages written by these yellow angels of autumn.

The touch of your heart is ripe enough to take me closer.
The sun of my eyes ripened your Heart’s desire fruit,
Its Song prepared us for the Slumberland Hug.
Our merry Autumn is nearby.