Leaves fall onto the stairway,
empty house, no word say.
Astretch afront there lay a beach,
along which few walks beseech.
Behind, there stands a peaceful wood,
the frolicking place of the nymphs so good.
In the air at flight to look,
at beautiful birds and the sky they took.
They perch upon velvet cushions and trees,
the resting which a young doll sees.
Sitting rocks in leaves and sand,
near the water on the land.
A voice is heard from all around,
throughout the wind, serene resound.
A peaceful song of reveled joy,
the wonderful things in nature's employ.
Smooth as the grass with the morning dew,
young and fresh as a butterfly new.
A song that makes the wood nymphs dance,
and sing along when they have the chance.
In this house the singer stays,
singing and enjoying nature's ways.
Birds in flight and the ocean flow,
the wood nymphs play and let the breezes blow.
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