| If you try to follow her footsteps, | |
| You will find that she doesn't leave a single one... | |
| She's so light, | |
| As the sound of | |
| Her sister Syrinx's flute... | |
| Tapping with the leaves and dancing, she flirts with the wind, | |
| And then her song sounds like piccolo... | |
| Is innocent the rain that's falling on her face, | |
| Washing little sins of summer, | |
| Where water-fairy runs, when summer dance's done, | |
| Where will she hide? | |
| When the nature sings the swan song | |
| And the autumn gives the final cut, | |
| Like a painter, with her sorrow | |
| She fades all colours to gray... |
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