Cleared the cornfield, bare the boughs are,
From still waters mist is rolling,
Like a wheel beyond the mountains
Has the silent sun gone rolling.

Dozing is the cart track yonder.
In a day dream it was thinking
One won't have to wait much longer
For the coming of grey winter.

Yesterday as mist came creeping
Did not I see in the darkness
Like a foal the bay moon leaping
Into our snow sledge's harness?