The autumn is crying,
cold rains denying,
North wind burns my face,
colorful leaves are flying,
as they are in a race.
I have parted with you
telling quiet adieu,
and it seems for good.
Not having heard I love you,
I quite well everything understood.
There was time I believed
when sweet words I received,
I just wanted to be loved,
but you simply deceived,
she has become your beloved.
You’ll be quite well forgotten
as your love was so rotten.
When my wounds are healed
I will start a new life,
in a new house, on my own field.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
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