The sigh of the wind

The leaves fall down,
they fall down
on the golden dawn
of blue and green lights,
of singing dawns.

And the leaves sleep,
they sleep,
yet the wind sigh not.
The golden evening,
the autumn evening,
falls down.
And the leaves sleep and die,
they disappear between
fairies` dust.
There are no more leaves furrowing
the dawn,
not even laughing or
singing dawns.