I'll gather a handful of stars
Sitting in a boat-crescent
Will disperse
The waves-clouds
With chilling wind
Hit the bank shore... tree tops
And descend the branches
To the forest lake
My crown of stars
I'll wrap in a sack of moss
And emerald fragrant grass
Throw into the waters dark
For huge black fish swallow
When the water turns into ice
Let the wanderer tired
Catch that fish
With moonlight, with silent old song
Let my crown of stars be a gift for him
Milky way... his throne.

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