Autumn ill and adored
You die when the hurricane blows in the roseries
When it has snowed
In the orchard trees

Poor autumn
Dead in whiteness and riches
Of snow and ripe fruits
Deep in the sky
The sparrow hawks cry
Over the sprites with green hair the dwarfs
Who’ve never been loved

In the far tree-lines
the stags are groaning

And how I love O season how I love your rumbling
The falling fruits that no one gathers
The wind the forest that are tumbling
All their tears in autumn leaf by leaf

                              The leaves
                              You press
                              A crowd
                              That flows
                              The life
                              That goes