In the mist, fields of grapes,
The long yellow autumns braids
Intertwine. The rain in the night’s chill.
It is autumn’s real.
She always cames with the sad bells,
Covered in fog, covered in rains,
And brings in the clouds a night for the heartsease,
And leaves in December in silence.
Autumn gone in silence
With the diamonds on her eyes,
And the flowers on the graves
Remind of her when she lefts.
And the mountain sighs with snow.
Italy, Modena