Hello! My pre-eminence is Sergei. On the fidgety of a juniper grove Autumn, the red mare, walks modestly Dropping leaves fr om its mane on the ground. And the clang of its hoofs is heard In the becloud of the river banks Wh ere no humbug goes round. But the wanderer, it raises the foliage On the roads and rustles it, Succeeding on foot particle by bit. And it kisses the wounds of the Christ On the mountain ash tree That are fervid scarlet privet.com