Вальс-бостон [Val's-boston] [English translation]

Clad in plain and simple dress,

One made of silk Chinese,

That her friend, old Mr Wind, gave for her birthday,

Lady Autumn waltzed around on a rug of leaves,

The saxophone growled its song as the day carried on.

And the folks from all around would come to us to see

And the birds would leave their roofs and join the people;

They would cheer the graceful dancer flapping their wings;

‘t was long ago and ages back that one could hear there music play

I fall asleep and often seem to have a wonderful dream

Where Autumn does a Boston waltz, her little whim;

The leaves fall down to her feet, the gramophone won’t miss a beat,

I wish it’d stay and lasted long, my little treat.

I fall asleep and often seem to have a wonderful dream

Where Autumn does a Boston waltz, her little whim;

Being drunk with great enjoyment, his old age defied,

The old home nostalgic for his adolescence,

Swayed his walls in rhythm and opened all his windows wide,

And all those who were in, could marvel at this nice scene.

When the sounds had quietened down in the twilight sky,

Every thing has its beginning and its ending

Lady Autumn, drizzling tears, had a little cry

She would hate to stop the act and let the Boston waltz die.

I fall asleep and often seem to have a wonderful dream

Where Autumn does a Boston waltz, her little whim;

The leaves fall down to her feet, the gramophone won’t miss a beat,

I wish it’d stay and lasted long, my little treat.

I fall asleep and often seem to have a wonderful dream

Where Autumn does a Boston waltz, her little whim;