When the mulberry Has reached her Final bout of bloom You'll find me barefoot In my silver slip I'll sleep with the moon She'll be sad I am slipping So swiftly away She is so solemn Her season is dying She is so solemn Her season is dying When the ground Beneath my feet Has covered herself In blankets of milky dew You should look for my hands Holding funeral flowers As they will be hanging Their petals in grief I am so solemn My season is dying I am so solemn My season is dying Mulberry and I are Intertwined The moon and my Face are pale waxen Our fruits and the stars Have all gone to wither Now we are so solemn Our season is dying I am so solemn I'm dying I am so solemn I'm dying I am so solemn I'm dying