Thousand,thousand leaves are falling
thousand,thousand steps approaching
then fleeing,in the dark are vanishing
thousand,thousand veils are grazing
on me with invisible swayings…
Thousand,thousand voices are whispering
calling me with the wind,full of wailings
in the shadow among trees ghosts are hiding
and faceless are each other pursuing
within the lamps’light are vanishing.
Dead leaves,their voices light talking
by the wind of November embrangling
are thrown in the streets, within gardens
then continue unfounded their races
at the door of those voiceless houses…
Dance crying on the asphalt surfacing
without life, without scope, without places
in a fly without wings they are lifting
but with sighs the whole night they are
filling
