In November In My Window
Dazzling autumn
In November, in my window
Does she smile?
Does she laugh?
Or it is only my dream?
The specks of dust turn along a room
and they have fun in the breeze
at an open window.
Are they the smallest parts of my sad thoughts and troubles?
It is necessary to dust and wipe them off my life.
If even the sun is shining in November in my window,
the summer joy has faded, has been lost and blazed
together with leaves only on fires of my memories.
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