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)