November day is Azo Orange,
If you observe it
Leaning on the windowsill
Where ripe mandarins lie.
A girl is passing to the skating ring –
So gorgeous that she can’t be painted “so-so”,
With clement strokes,
She must be studied…
(Muses are the greatest teachers of artists.)
To comprehend the structure of a mandarin,
One must put in no less work
Than in comprehending the Plato’s dialogue…
November is the time to catch the sun
Laying its hands onto the hips of autumn.
Cold is silver, and
If the sun of Brussels is white,
The sun of Garda – gold,
The sun of Beirut – pink,
Of Moscow – mauve,
Its colour is the force
That polishes one’s mornings
To pedantry of Stradivari,
Stravinsky or Shostakovich.