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Red leaves swirling around on the river waters;
brisk autumn winds blowing hard against the starlings;
cat-tails drying in October winds, and swaying,
while brown grass and willow trees frame the moving waters.
Up, down, and over hill: all the children laughing;
cheeks red with play and wind, twirling, whirling, dancing.
Bonfires are on the bank, golden flames are leaping,
parents preparing food while babies are sleeping.
Harvest is over now. There's new nuts for roasting,
fruit drying on the lawn, garlic from the rafters,
corn gathered in the bins. Now's the time for playing,
dancing, and singing beside the river waters.
So come now, all my friends, down the winding river.
Sit upon the brown grass while the sun is sinking.
Let's eat pumpkin pie while rabbit meat is roasting.
We will watch the sun setting west of the waters.
Down drops the western sun; soon the stars are twinkling.
We all arise and go: up the river dancing;
up the river singing while the flowing waters
washing by the willows, filled with red leaves floating,
red leaves and golden leaves, dark now on the river.
Little waves sing and splash, in the star-light shining.
We must all head for home. Now the mist is rising,
bringing a frosty chill from the winding river.
