My Heart whispers to a thousand cries,

And peaceful I write all she wants.

If the falling autumn leaves rustling,

Autumn a distinguished lady, much on pretending?

And autumn is coming, but me constantly crying

Summer I miss you before you go,

In the columns of poems I worship you.

But, Next morning with her siren

Has emptied streets on punk

I wait for you summer,

Whiten, leans face against the window.

There are still many fleeting seconds

Please summer I wait procedure on you...

Brit Summer shows you that you are punctual a genuine English Lady.