There are many colours that now appear, once September's here.

The trees transform before our eyes, rain marks the skies.

Bold yellows, sharp orange, deep red, beneath the sky of lead.

Birds migrate and insects vanish, harsh winds banish.

Days grow short the night time long, hear the blackbirds song.

The winds are cooler the night air cold, autumns taking hold.

 

ПЕРЕВЕСТИ НА РУССКИЙ ЯЗЫК

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