Midwood in autumn moon
Dawning upon silver dew
Shimmering like fireflies
And golden leaves from up high
Striding up to me

The lady of goldenwood
In shrouds of pearls and palest white
Though she bears the mark of the wilds
She is the queen of her kind

Sung by flutes of ivory
Notes soar round the elder tree
Stairs ascending to far up high
Where golden leaves kiss the sky

The lady of goldenwood
In shrouds of pearls and palest white
Though she bears the mark of the wilds
She is the queen of her kind