Lord: It is time. The summer has been great.
Shroud the sundials with your shadows
and on the fields let the winds run wild.
The last fruits order to be full;
grant them two more southern days,
urge them to perfection, push
last sweetness into heavy vines.
He who has no house will not build one now,
he who is now alone will be so for many days,
will watch, and read, write letters long,
will walk the alleys to and fro, restlessly,
with the drifting leaves.
This was written by Rainer Maria Rilke, one of the most romantic
romantics; and yes, the uneven lines are of his own making, and it
doesn't really rhyme. Translated by me, while I was playing with autumn
colours.It certainly doesn't do him justice, but I love this poem and
wanted you to have a share.
A good and colourful autumn to you all!