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.
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