Tune: “Dance of the Cavalry”
When swallows come, we worship gods of spring;
Then flowers fall, we mourn for the dear dead.
We hear, amid the leaves, the orioles sing;
Beside the pool we see the green moss spread.
The willow catkins fly as the day’s lengthening.
My neighbor’s daughter and her friends are sweet,
Mulberry leaves to gather now they meet.
Last night, she wonders, why such happy dreams?
They foretell that she wins the game of grass, it seems.
A sparkling smile upon her fair face beams.