The Poetry of Avraham Ben-Yitzhak

September in the Avenue

Dreaming lights,
Pale lights,
Drifting to my feet.
Soft shadows,
Weary shadows
Caressing my path.

From between bare branches,
A light wind
Gives voice,
And hush...
Here a last leaf
Floats downwards,
Trembles a moment more...
And silence.

September / October 1903