The tawny autumn Is a flirting girl, Which throws away shirt and skirt And strips.

Is it of hot?

She opens her smooth breasts, Dainty legs, And her marble hips, Barely leaving A pale fig-leaf As cover…

The breeze gusts, Heaves, rumbles bashfully, Sinning furtively…

The tawny autumn in her puberty Is a flirting girl, And I don’t know Does she keep, or Throw away The fig-leaf?

The lusting shy Does not look, Does not see…

O, my temples Pound with hot blasts, And pounds my heart Breathless, frantic and love-drowned In the still expanding Velvet flames of autumn… And again A bud burst open, Warms up with rosy love fervor, The redness fades with blushes…

Is it from the midday-honeyed sun?

A flight of bees chimes In my blood, Moans in my temples, Coquettes, Teases playfully…

The tawny autumn Is a flirting girl, It reddens and crimsons, Sheds her petals and foliage, Strips, But… bashfully Leaves a fig-leaf On me…