Throws autumn leaves for the gold: trees in rich gifts. The top drops on a minor note the cranes that flies in the sky. Time wonderful, time of rest! No more gray, chilly rain. The sun is tired of the sweltering heat And half blew out the candle. Dragged the kids out of the woods baskets Full of strong mushrooms and butter. Harvested field, flying spider, for some reason, in the face of strive. The air is clear, like water From a spring that flows from the forest. Sweet in blue cloud sleep: Wind in the palm of his carries. As well! The silence here is! Occasionally you can hear the cows mooing... the Charm of the sacred land I draw in the picture of the words. The recipe for this cake I was presented with Oksana, in which she thanks a lot.