Grass is growing on the moon
And dew is falling from the grass
Drought dries the earth, but soon
Will pass

The moon has no left hand
The night is cold upon the sand

The moon has no right leg
I had to beg, I had to beg

A lazy rain begins to fall
The crocuses are buried yet
The fields beneath the moon are all
Sopping wet

The moon now has no hands
She's hopping over the sands

The moon now has no legs
Only the hermit begs

The nights are dark without the moon
The fat frog quietly spawns
The cowslips will be flowering soon
And the snail put out his horns.