Bunches of rowan

Rowan bunches are dark with frost,
Shakes slightly with the wind, hang on the branches,
Like rubies given for a holiday,
They beckon to touch them with your hand.
I dropped all the curly leaves yesterday,
Today I opened my new outfit,
I washed all her rainy autumn,
As if preparing for a winter ceremony.
So alone in the autumn forest,
Newly dressed virgin stands,
And from the gusts, from the playful wind,
Silently litters with berries.
The share of mountain ash has long been known to the forest,
To feed the lonely birds all winter
The berry is red over the white snow,
Like a gift for the beggars lies.
Birds flock to the mountain ash on a branch,
Red bunches peck softly
Apparently they liked this gift,
If the girlfriends are called on the branch.

Gennady Yuzhakov