What doesn't enter then my slumbering mind?
-Derzhavin
I
October has arrived - the woods have tossed
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Who did the English translation for the Alexander Pushkin Autumn poems above?
I love the lavish withering of nature, The gold and scarlet raiment of the woods, The crisp wind rustling o'er their threshold, The sky engulfed by tides of rippled gloom, The sun's scarce rays, approaching frosts, And gray-haired winter threatening from afar. The beautiful nature and its seasons so fascinatingly described by Alexander Pushkin.