In Alexey Pleshcheyev's poetry, autumn isn't just a time of fading, but also a period of quiet sadness and reflection on life and the beauty of the passing. His poems about autumn are imbued with a sincere love for nature, its tranquil grandeur and melancholic colors. Pleshcheyev masterfully conveys the sense of peace bestowed by the autumn landscape, while simultaneously conveying the gentle sadness that comes with the realization of the inevitability of change. In his works, autumn is presented as a wise and thoughtful time, inspiring philosophical reflection and lyrical experiences. These poems, written in simple and understandable language, continue to resonate with readers.
Content
show
Autumn
Autumn. The field breathes a chill, the sun shines faintly. The last leaf is torn by the wind, the welcoming world goes to sleep. Birds fly south, a wedge of them flies across the sky. Silence spreads around, my sadness ignited in it. But even in this sadness there is light, autumn – a wise, quiet color. In it lies peace and tenderness, and the salvation of my soul.
Early autumn
The cold hasn't yet touched the earth, But I no longer heed the summer's strength. The groves are clothed in crimson, And the birds' trills have prayed. The air is clear, quiet, fresh, And a ray of sun, slightly careless. Apples have ripened in the orchards, And thoughts have become so light. As if autumn whispers tenderly That everything passes forever. And in this truth there is comfort, On the threshold of winter's west.
Withering
The grass has withered, the flowers have drooped, And old dreams whisper sadly. Summer is leaving, and with it the joy of the day, And autumn quietly enters me like a shadow. In the gardens, the golden attire is empty, And the wind drives the leaves like a mournful choir. Nature falls asleep, tired of the warmth, And the heart echoes her with its silence.
Autumn evening
The sunset glows red in the gray haze, and the forest stands, as in a dream, quiet. The last ray of light glides across the treetops, and the day fades, full of groans. In the distance, a fire smokes carelessly, and the scent of autumn is so fresh and tender. The soul yearns, peering into the distance, and hears autumn's sad tablet.
Rain
The sky is leaden, the day is gloomy, and the rain beats like a shadow. It pours quietly, monotonously, and the sadness in the soul grows bottomless. It washes away the dust from the faded grass, and whispers fairy tales, as if it were true. In its coolness there is tenderness, and a quiet humility of the heart.
Golden autumn
In the crimson grove, in the gold of the field, the whole earth breathes autumn color. And the sun shines tenderly, warmly, as if whispering: "Soon all is gone..." But in this beauty there is its own peace, and the heart fills with dreams. Of the future, of bright, warm days, and of the love that lives forever within us.
Late autumn
The birds have fallen silent, the clear air freezes, and the first frost silvers the earth. The trees are bare, as if in sorrow, and the wind howls in the distant hump. But even in this gloomy silence, there is beauty understood only by me. In the premonition of winter, in its breath, and in the frozen fading of hearts.
Autumn thoughts
I sit alone, looking out the window, And I cherish the sadness of autumn. I think about life, about fleeting days, And about love that melts in the clouds. How quickly time flies by, And everything that was seems so... Distant, ghostly, like a dream, And the heart fills with longing and groaning.
November
A leaf swirls like a butterfly in a field, And autumn bestows its freedom upon us. It plucks leaves from bare branches And carpets the ground with them. This leaf fall has its own beauty, And a quiet tear fills the heart. That everything passes, everything changes, And life, like a leaf, one day withers.
Autumn Garden
The garden is abandoned, withered and empty, Only the wind wanders through it like a thief in the night. The apples have withered, fallen to the grass, And sadness has filled the silence. But even in this sadness there is peace, And hearts are filled with a dream. That spring will return again, And the garden will bloom, giving us love.