Autumn outside...
If you want to like anything from this melancholic season
You have to be the autumn itself...
It's impossible to love the rain,
If you're not the rainbow that appears after;
It's impossible to be a clear blue sky of October,
If you were not the nightmare that burned out
To rise that clear sky from above.
Everyone talks in a loud voice about their love
For this depressive season, but,
When its shadow falls into their steps,
Silent voices grab their souls and run away with trains of hopes
Into another season...
Don't be a coward and tell us about your hate... for autumn!
The leaves will let you take off with your clouds full of dreams;
You'll certainly get off at first station - in tears -
Missing the season of sorrow...
And if you are a little more melancholic than your usual morning -
So what?
Maybe your hands will find a pen and write a poem -
The rhyme might be somewhere inside the rain.
Autumn outside...
My neighbors prepare some firewood:
It seems that the cold feels already at home in their bones,
Although I still sleep with open door and windows.
Autumn outside...
My baby says: "Honey! It's spring! Let's get ourselves a curtain
And cover your sadness with flowers and sun and some green";
"Baby, I'm autumn! Could you be silent?
The dew from the morning a chant sings in my heart and a hymn."
Autumn outside...
My black coffee's steaming the sky of the night
Autumn outside... in color;
Inside is black and white.
