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.
