Autumn has come, it has come
Cover my heart with something
With the shadow of a tree, or better yet
Or, better yet, with your shadow.

Sometimes I fear that I won't see you any more
That my pointed wings will grow to the clouds
That you'll hide in a strange eye
And it will close with a wormwood leaf.

And then I come close to the stones and I am silent
I take the words and drown them in the sea
I whistle at the moon and I raise it and I transform it
Into a great love.

Autumn has come, it has come
Cover my heart with something
With the shadow of a tree or better yet,
Or, better yet, with your shadow.