31 August
Goodbye my little August
Here comes your time to fly
I’ve loved you, to be honest
Much better than July
September’s on the threshold
The summer paid its price
The autumn wind blows cold
Precedes the winter ice
Though many autumns I have seen
And winters in their prime
I couldn’t imagine it would seem
Like a delayed goodbye
More nights, my darling, without you
More leaves at your back door
But memories remain like new
We thought they would, before.
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