The autumn, so similar to the seasons of a human soul, is almost a second spring, when every falling leaf seems like a flower, and the tree that gives it up, does not die, but watches it fall, and patiently waits for it to be reborn, and for a new flower, the coming spring, to be born.
The autumn, so similar to the seasons of a human soul, is almost a second spring, when every falling leaf seems like a flower, and the tree that gives it up, does not die, but watches it fall, and patiently waits for it to be reborn, and for a new flower, the coming spring, to be born.