The water's dreamy, slowly flowing
Between the corners of the streets,
Adorned brightly with lantern lights,
While the midnight wind is blowing.
Their moony, rosy brows are glowing,
At the breezing Kyoto nights,
Presenting to many crowds sights
Who're beautiful, while on they're going.

A maiko here, a geisha there,
Fleeting around in the bright moonbeams,
Like sakura petals on a spring-night.

I ask, they are going to where,
Besides just ending up in dreams
With their paints who're red and white?

Beauty and elegance does lie
Within each move and act of them,
While passing by each looking eye,
Styled with a flower-diadem
Where each petal shines like a gem
Whenever fondled by moonlight,
Or appearing in-front eyesight,
Decorating the rainy streets,
Where they walk at day and at night,
While this world of them flits and fleets.

This flower-tradition should stay,
Of pure entertainment with smiles,
Who's to History a gateway,
To find the ancient arts and styles,
Or else it will take us much miles
To return to the fleeting past,
Who for a small portion does last
Particularly in their own being
Who's almost replaced by the fast
Roads who are all from past fleeing.

She's standing there in the beams of the moon,
Listening to the traveling wind's tune.
Surrounded by the wonders of nature,
Walking around in her sweet leisure.
Here is the place where her silk meets the leaves,
Who will never merge even when she leaves.
While the wind carries the past, she does too,
Adding color to history's gray hue.

On a cloudy Autumn day rain is the weather.
A blossom petal on the wet streets of Gion.
The soothing sounds of Koto in the theater.
A walking Geisha on the wet streets of Gion.

A soft kiss by the wind blows the petal away,
All elegantly through the wet streets of Gion.
The Geisha sings a song to cheer up this sad day,
Sings elegantly through the wet streets of Gion.