In autumn

Ah, autumn, dear witch,
you truly plunge into thought -
with its farewell beauty.
With freckles and a red braid -

you will walk along forest paths,
fields, as if golden,
light a fire of rowan leaves,
like a flaming ruby.

Among the mirrors of transparent water,
with a fast gait, definitely.
You will leave your wonderful mark.
Wait, I whisper to you, follow.