Orange leaves dance in front of my eyes,
The wind pressing against my face...

He begins, pen up and ready to write,
A though fills his head, as fast as light...

Your whisper is as thin as mist,
One of the things that I don't miss...

Life starts out as a canoe,
With few crew mates...

My dear, pray that you will not mind if I go away,
My plans are to set sail, sometime today...

Helpless, a party of six,
Eagerly, their sorrow spread too quickly...