When I look at leaves — flying, rushing
When I look at leaves — flying, rushing
Down to the cobble paving,
Being brushed aside – as if by an artist
Who is finally finishing his painting,
I keep thinking (everyone is surprised by
How I look; as thoughtful as autumn),
That one strikingly yellow, decisively rusty —
One such leaf on the very top is — forgotten.
1936
© Translated by Alexandra Smith
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