Late fall, the leaves are falling by the winds
The early sun sets and it’s beautiful evening.
The winds are blowing from the city wynds
In the night on the road, the leaves are groaning.
Here and there, the people are gathering
In the pub, they are talking until the late night.
For a long time they couldn’t be blathering
‘Cause of the Corona. The streetlamps are bright.
The neon signs make the leaves on the trees
Be redder, and the fall foliage are waving
To the passers-by. And they gaze at ease.
The fall is too short even the men’s craving.
I pulled out the brandy and made on the rocks
Drinking, so the leaves come on the cheek.
And wall clock hit the twelve but their talks
Are not finish, the left leaves are sleek.