Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze...
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind—
Thy windy will to bear!
(Emily Dickinson)
Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze...
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind—
Thy windy will to bear!
(Emily Dickinson)
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day!
Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree...
(Emily Bronte)
“You must remain. I must depart.
Two autumns falling in the heart.”
― Buson
“No trail to follow
where the teacher has wandered off-
the end of autumn.”
― Yosa Buson
One by one, everyone has left, autumn wind.
(Kobayashi Issa 1763-1828)
Coveted by all
Turning into such beauty-
The falling red leaves.
Shiko (1664-1731)
Housman, ‘Tell me not here, it needs not saying’.
Tell me not here, it needs not saying,
What tune the enchantress plays
In aftermaths of soft September
Or under blanching mays,
For she and I were long acquainted
And I knew all her ways.
On russet floors, by waters idle,
The pine lets fall its cone;
The cuckoo shouts all day at nothing
In leafy dells alone;
And traveller’s joy beguiles in autumn
Hearts that have lost their own …
A Continual Autumn, by Jalal Al-din Muhammad Rumi
Inside each of us there’s
a continual autumn.
Our leaves fall and are
blown out over the water,
a crow sits in the blackened limbs and
talks about what’s gone.
There’s a necessary dying, and
then we are reborn breathing again.
Very little grows on jagged rock.
Be ground.
Be crumbled
so wildflowers will come up where you are.
Coveted by all
turning into such beauty
the falling red leaves.
Shiko (1664-1731)
Adelaide Crapsey, ‘November Night’.
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees
And fall …
— Inside each of us, there's continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out over the water. ..
Rumi
"I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift."
– Dodinsky
Blown from the west,
fallen leaves gather
in the east.
Yosa Buson
“Be like a tree and let the dead leaves drop.” – Rumi
On a bare branch
A crow is perched -
Autumn evening”
― Bashō
“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.”
― Lauren DeStefano
https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/autumn
“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.”
― Lauren DeStefano.
Autumn mood
The Autumn has already arrived with the snow and frost,
It shook the blooms and the leaves off the trees And brought sadness into one’s soul. Only the fast fleet of the memories
Brings back to me the moments of happiness
As the Spring brings the sap to the pear tree.
And I remember the scent-filled forest,
Where I sunk into your arms for the first time,
And kissed you in the shade of the tree.
Oh beloved, give me back those moments again So that they may warm my heart in the wintertime: Can’t you see I’m perishing?From Heli Transactions of poems by an unknown Czech poet used by Novák, Czech omposer
Dear friends,
Sadly summer is slowly coming to an end. In a few weeks autumn is here.
A bare branch braces
a crow's perch
on the eve of autumn.
-Matsuo Basho, 1644-1694
Emily Brontë
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.
Inside of us, there is a continual
autumn. Our leaves fall and
are blown over the water.
Rumi
9. D. H. Lawrence, ‘Autumn Rain’.
The plane leaves
fall black and wet
on the lawn;
the cloud sheaves
in heaven’s fields set
droop and are drawn
in falling seeds of rain;
the seed of heaven
on my face
falling — I hear again
like echoes even
that softly pace
heaven’s muffled floor …