An Autumn dance

(Вольный перевод на английский язык моего стихотворения
Осенний танец)

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Morning, September is end.
Fallen leaves are waltzing and dancing.
I am recalling your face.
And my soul cannot part from your binding.

Specter of autumn – the mist...
(Something is fading, and something is dawning),
Memory, rascal with bare-knuckled fists,
Wrestles with my thoughts in the morning.

You are not here, yet your fire is mine —
Blazing inferno! To May I could travel!
Aching, sweet pain is crossing this line,
From which I can't flee, can't unravel.

Silver moonlight has been spilled by the moon.
And in the air frowned menacing storms -May-time.
It was a dream, I believed it so soon.
And your voice as an echo flew up to the sky.

Did I invent it? Or maybe did not.
Will you forget me, or maybe return here...
Maybe a spring-dawn will break through the spot,
Where you will fall as the rain, spilling near here.

Did I invent it? Or maybe did not.
Maybe you're a specter of autumn's grey mysteries.
Only the wind whispers back from the spot:
"She will forever be one of your victories.

Know, that your fire will burn evermore,
Marking the rhythm of my heart's palpation.
Hundreds of doors I will manage to ope...
You will be there! You're a one-of-a-kind creation!

Morning, September is end.
Fallen leaves are waltzing and dancing.
I am recalling your face.
And my soul cannot part from your binding.

07.10.2026