The creeping evening

The evening is creeping in,
its getting dark very quickly,
the bright colors of the autumn leaves are fading.

It smells: freshness, snow,
freshly mown hay.
And you meet sadness again. And you?

You, probably, are also in universal sadness,
playing chords on the guitar in the silence?

It happened, well,
its sad, of course,
to live out your years in the Siberian wilderness.