Summer Was Weeping

Summer was weeping, the earth she was leaving,
Down to the field tears were quietly flowing,
But with their beautiful bright autumn blossoms,
There where the teardrops had fallen, unfolded
Flowers of autumn, flowers watered, well-watered
With grief and with sorrow, with tears of the summer.
Flowers of autumn, my own ones, my pale ones,
You have unfolded -- but only to wither.
Maybe for that cause, the soul, near to breaking,
Weaves you into this loveliest garland.

Maxim Bahdanovich