Summer has passed,
Autumn came.
In fields and groves
Empty and sad.
The birds have gone,
The days are shorter,
You can't see the sun,
Dark, dark nights.
Autumn came,
The flowers are dry,
And they look sad
The naked bushes.
Smooth and yellow
The grass on the meadows,
Only green
The winter is in the fields.
The cloud of heaven covers,
The sun doesn't shine,
The wind in the field is screaming,
Rain's drizzling..
Noisy waters
Fast stream,
Birds flew away
To the warm edges.
Wood, we're gonna lose the paper,
Lil, gold, black,
With fun, with a wall
It's over the light pole.
Yellow carved birch
They're flying blue in the lasuri,
Like towers, the trees are darkening,
And between the maples are blue
That's it, that's it, that's it, that's it
The skies are over.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
In the summer he dried from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
He's getting into a hot-ass...
Autumn. Fairyline,
All open for review.
Forest roads,
Looking into the lake.
As in the exhibition of paintings:
Halls, halls, halls, halls
Vyazov, ash, axin
The gold is unprecedented.
Lipes of the hoop gold —
Like a crown on a new wedding.
Birch face — under the fat
Undergarments and transparent.
Burial land
Under the leaves in the ditches, the pits.
In the yellow maples of the fliggle,
It's like a golden frame.
Where are the trees in September
They're in pairs at the dawn,
And sunset on their cortex
Leaves a trace of amber.
Where you can't go to the ravine,
To make it clear:
It's so raging that it's not a step,
There's wood underneath the feet.
Where sounds at the end of the alley
Echo at a steep descent
And get cherry glue
Stalls as clots.
Autumn. Ancient Corner
Old books, clothes, arms,
Where is the treasure catalog
The buzz is turning.
