September

The garden is in mourning.
Cool falls the rain upon the
flowers.
Summer shudders, quietly
to its end.

Leaf after golden leaf drops
down from the high acacia tree.
Summer smiles, surprised and weary
upon the dying dream of this garden.

Yet still it lingers by the roses,
longing for rest.
Then slowly closes its great
weary eyes.

Hermann Hesse

Alternate translation (a bonus!): The garden is in mourning. Cool rain seeps into the flowers. Summertime shudders, quietly awaiting its end. Golden leaf after leaf falls from the tall acacia tree. Summer smiles, astonished and feeble, at his dying dream of a garden. For just a while he tarries beside the roses, yearning for repose. Slowly he closes his weary eyes.