There in the deepest well of dreams
Echoed a distant song
I hearkened to the hallowed voice
Stirred from ageless sleep
Through this barren soil you came
Sweet scent of spring
Came and cast the earth in bloom
Lent your light to me
But now the summer's dreams are bent
Like grain against the scythe
And memories of blissful days
They fall like leaves
For autumn's songs are made of loss
Of yearning and regret
In bitter tone they are recited
Uttered with a heavy heart
