You're again with me, my girlfriend autumn?
But through your net of the boughs bared,
Bluish tints were ne’er such pale and frozen,
And I don’t recall the snow more dead.

I’ve not seen some sadder than your rabble,
And such black as all your lakes and streams,
In your skies – old, faded and unstable –
Yellow clouds of my painful dreams.

Just to see this all, while fully freezing…
How strangely new is this air cold…
Do you know, I thought, more dizzying
Is to see the empty deeps of words.