The northwest winds begin to blow,
Harbingers of future snow,
Important now in their own right;
End summer daze with autumn night.
The brisk new breeze, so crisp and free,
Thickens sap and quickens me.
Released from an infernal hold,
To silvan gifts of red and gold.
Daytime skies of liquid azure,
Nighttime stars of countless measure,
Pungency of a first lit furnace,
Days that shorten now in earnest,
To these joys' rustling call,
My spirit -
Blooms in fall.
