On a sunny summer evening
Where flowers begin to dance:
The wind, like a breathing tune,
Sonorous and Proud,
Like aid for chanting prance:

Or in midst of silver snow,
Where dark gets jealous of light.

Perhaps the silly spring glow,
Where nature alike will grow.

But about that autumn night,
So tender and tense suffice
A leaf could come and go,
By the flower's dancing might.