Leaf-flowers blossom in orange-ish and gold,
Wave to strong breezes to clasp them and hold,
Hold them and pull them off the old tree,
Send them to Love-dove, lover of me!

She will snatch-catch them as many she can,
Offer in hand-fulls to her lover man.
I will fall truly to my autumn queen,
Laugh in her showers down on the green.

Up, then, we’ll skitter about like old leaves,
Slow, not too fast, for our legs and our knees.
Spirit of youth will be spinning us true,
Slow, not too fast! we will turn, ever new!

Leaf-flowers blossom their yellowish brown,
Fall-in-spring scattering all over town!
Lover-dove loves it, and I love her more,
Riches of living—what we’re loving for!