I hear my steps.
I walk in the park.
It s autumn.
Everything is yellow around,
Why – i cry –
all this beauty must so early die?
Sunbeams makes all little magic.
Tall trees looks like fantastic, unknown me,
Mistic and terrible beings,
Thee, My soul,
I see going through the park,
Talking with nature, hearing it s silence.
Winter – coldness and snow, spring,
Summer funny days, and autumn comes again,
I give this time to think, only few weeks!
I remember my steps in the park although I am now sitting at home.
3.11.1999