The wandering boy passing by Lifts his head to the birds in the sky Petals flitting by his face In May winds they are falling Falling with the breezes to the ground ...Falling with the breezes to the ground The wandering boy with his staff Lingers long at the brook by the path Waters flowing on and on In May floods they are gushing Rushing with a low and limpid sound ...Rushing with a low and limpid sound The wandering boy with a whisper in his eye A whistle in his step, a lute upon his back A feather in his cap, a picnic in his pack His bare feet treading soft upon the grass Cherry blossoms in the winds of spring The petals falling Falling with the breezes to the ground ...Falling with the breezes to the ground