THE autumn comes, a maiden fair
In slenderness and grace,
With nodding rice-stems in her hair And lilies in her face.
In flowers of grasses she is clad; And as she moves along,
Birds greet her with their cooing glad
Like bracelets' tinkling song. A diadem adorns the night Of multitudinous stars;
Her silken robe is white moonlight, Set free from cloudy bars;
And on her face (the radiant moon)
Bewitching smiles are shown:
She seems a slender maid, who soon
Will be a woman grown.
Over the rice-fields, laden plants
Are shivering to the breeze;
While in his brisk caresses dance
The blossomed-burdened trees;
He ruffles every lily-pond
Where blossoms kiss and part,
And stirs with lover's fancies fond
The young man's eager heart.