It is mysterious so much,
This autumn, that pleased my eyes
With maple crown and smell of flowers
And raises me, again and again.

And [bad word] and I am
Fanned by it's clear breath
It is refined charming fragrance
Reminds me the taste of wine

And strange scent of her perfume
And easy breeze of her fabrics
Attracts me giving tenderness
I feel her gloomy sight
Through her lowered eyelashes
And her transparent tears
Melt in palms, as white snow.