It’s all as if the rain’s pouring down
gray mists will rest upon the longing eyes
as if one’s waiting for the spring
that November will bring

And one can’t hear the footsteps behind
and silent door won’t shut
it’s all as if a tranquil flood carries you away from the empty towns

Where the wind chases about
fragments of things unsaid

Where along the rainy paths
autumn continues along on its way