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Denis Bezmelnitsin
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September Sadness
Clouds rainy paly, why?
Only sadness raving sighs...
Leaves are falling orange, red -
Sounds dolorous and sad...
Leaves are wincing on bleak wind;
For me only left a dream...
On the cliff I sit alone
In the fog forgotten, cold...
I have gathered maple leaves -
Red and orange only: tints
Of sorrow, but tomorrow...
- Why this grief? For ye did borrow
From Us mantle black of moon,
Who becomest you, but look...
Or you value more the fleeting?
Like those in vanity competing?
Ah forgive! Maybé the mist
Roused melancholy this...
- Verily impatience is
This your mist, although
Look how beautiful are clouds...
September 2019
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