Lord: it is time. The summer was immense. <br />Lay your shadow on the sundials <br />and let loose the wind in the fields. <br /> <br />Bid the last fruits to be full; <br />give them another two more southerly days, <br />press them to ripeness, and chase <br />the last sweetness into the heavy wine. <br /> <br />Whoever has no house now will not build one <br />anymore. <br />Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long <br />time, <br />will stay up, read, write long letters, <br />and wander the avenues, up and down, <br />restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/autumn-day/
