November in the old city

Late autumn in Tomsk,
the wind tore off the foliage.
The landscape became gray, not catchy,
as if sewn into the canvas

harsh Siberian nature,
where life passes dimly.
Where is the chickpeas of the elite breed,
where you will meet a wretched dwelling.

But temples decorate here
tacky boring gist.
But people dont know about it
and see only flimsy dregs.