Autumn Day
Lord: it is time. The summer was immense. Lay your long shadows on the sundials, and on the meadows let the winds go free. Command the last fruits to be full; give them just two more southern days, urge them on to completion and chase the last sweetness into the heavy wine. Who has no house now, will never build one. Who is alone now, will long remain so, will stay awake, read, write long letters and will wander restlessly up and down the tree-lines streets, when the leaves are drifting.
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