From hordes of fresh cut saplings that abound
The hunter will devise a trusted bow
Discarded remnants rot above the ground

In early spring when winter chills rebound
The hunter builds a shelter in the snow
From hordes of fresh cut saplings that abound

Through summer months, the hunter's meal is found
By streams and brooks that through the forest flow
Discarded remnants rot above the ground

As summer wanes and autumn comes around
The hunter lets his stock of arrows grow
From hordes of fresh cut saplings that abound

At autumn's end, two mighty kings are crowned
Their armies feast before the final throw
Discarded remnants rot above the ground

In winter when the archers' drums resound
And hunters pull the string and loose the blow
From hordes of fresh cut saplings that abound
Discarded remnants rot above the ground