The Window's Glistening November

The window's glistening. November. It is my guest it is long waited guest It’s pretty scarlet I remember The mountain-ash with berries and their taste. Leaves fell; their paths are covered yellow With carpet as the ochre and the sand Perhaps they tired I’m good fellow I see their longing and I’m truly sad. But day is blessed while our windows glisten The berry’s red in eve of winter’s white Oh, autumn you are not my only reason We could survive in mystery of night.