Whom wouldst have to be thy playmate?
Hush, the silver moon I’ll call—
The bright star to be thy playmate.
“Crimson rose and petals wide,
Thou hast bloomed, our garden’s pride.
As many suns shine on thy years
As the leaves our garden bears.
“Oror, hush, the deer are here,
The deer have come from the hills so high,
Have brought sweet sleep to my baby dear,