«Bad weather — autumn — smoke. / Smoking — nothing helps. / If only I could read — but my reading / Creeps along so listlessly. / / The grey day crawls on lazily, / And on the wall / The clock ticks unbearably / In its tireless language. / / My heart gradually grows cold...»
«What a cold autumn! / Put on your shawl and bonnet. / Look: beyond the pines / It’s as if a fire is rising. / / Close to you, I always remember / The radiance of an autumn night; / Its phosphorous eyes still shine, / But they no longer warm me. »
«I have come to you with greetings, / To say that the sun has risen / And that it is quivering on the leaves / With its fiery light; / / To say that the forest has woken — / Everything has woken, every branch, / Every bird has stirred, / Full of springtime thirst; To say that I ha...»
«I’ll go along a familiar path to meet them, / The skies that glow with such a delicate amber sunset — / Imperishable as paradise. / Far off, the fading edge of the world has curled away; / The evening coolness breathes and doesn’t breathe, / And the ripening ears barely sway. / No,...»