The sadness of the autumn Is turning into rain November's ice in water Will freeze my blinding pain
Like cross in time-worn churchyard The limb of old birch sticks The wind is blowing madly And moaning like a weak
November sadness begins my way My deepen madness will stay the same
And there am I, as a colourless autumn Will be leaving to my mystic land And my steps will freeze deep, till the very bottom.. Maybe left in this frozen pond