Moon shine upon the lake,
The lake run icy cold.,
Autumn leaves falling fast,
The night and day are old.

Bird sings along their mate
And watch their children play,
And soon these song shall end,
And like thee end of day.

Icy breeze of the night,
Stories the moon have told.
None listen to his voice,
And days are growing old.

Day singing along the night,
And something still remain,
Like day fall into dark
And next day born again.

Our day still growing short,
And soon we’ll like to know,
Why the song doesn’t last?
And day are getting old.