Now the cold has come at last

Into the days and into my heart;

And rememberance of gone days

Fills my restless mind, again.


Browned and yellowd leaves

Lie on the street, fallen

Like papers, speaking of incidents

That somehow troubled my lonely heart.


Gone is the sun of Spain,

Gone my feelings of affection

That had seemed to end my seclusion;

Washed away by time and habituation.


The flowers of summer have withdrawn

Into their cosy shelters;

But at least they can come back

Unlike my memories and the days.


So much must have happened

But even now I’ve lost most of it

In the decay of recollection

And more will be lost, never to come back.


Winds stirr up dust and things,

Whirling them around and around

Like the feeling of my soul

Are turned inside out.


Problems seem easy to forget

And yet mess up my self;

I want to forget my fears

But they can’t be turned down.


The feelings of this season

Are like the old friends

I have met long ago

And whom I remembered well.


And though it was nice

To see them again, these weeks ago,

They fail to turn up now

When I’d need them most.


They can’t chase away my troubles;

Like these autumn winds

That cannot be placated

By the pleas of my yearning.


So I must try to endure,

Warm up my heart, recall my happiness,

Calm down my disturbed longings

With my art of transformation

Of want into bliss.