The Delight of Autumn Passion

The beautiful odour of October winds
 
 Gently caress me with it's benevolent hands,
 Yet so dark and gloomy in it's soul
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 It permeates my intense heart with silent delight
 How I do love the passion of fading away
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 The passion of dying...
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 For it is Death herself who sweeps the landscape,
 Embracing a lost world in shades and vapour
 I will never forget the dread of November,
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 Her grievance and stillness of lonely nights
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 The desire of heart, in minor adorned,
 Dancing so gently as dim northern lights
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 How I do love this pleasant seclusion,
 This old bitter-sweet feeling,
 The passion of solitude
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 O' my frozen Queen of December nights
 Let me transcend into a sleep without dreams,
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 Let me wither in your cold white arms...