Indian Summer

Winter crops are arisen and green, The sun spins its radiant thread, I met Autumn, the Forty-Fifth, so that the loyalty of love was kept. Someone aptly said, Indian summer - If the light is azure and warm. Like a woman, caressing and loving, In this wonderful time I have come. The red clusters of rowan are glowing, And as fire illuminate the leaves. As from heaven the rubies are offered, Like a fairy tale it is - real. And her fruits are so luscious, oh God! Beauty! And what a flavor? ! More expensive than diamonds - thanks, Love - a hundred times sweeter than honey. I accept the mature fields of corns, Yellowed leaves of the birches, willow's reddening glowing and the stars in their cold gloss! Now it smells of ripe apple and light, By the grace my soul's warmed and inspired, To my questions a good response shines as a colorful, cheerful fire.