Autumn

HE 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.