Where, from the bow,
Piercing the wild deer's side,
Swift arrows go.
When from the waters bright
Fades the red sun,
Following the evening light,
Darkness comes on.
So has my spirit drooped,
Since from my home
Traced I my weary steps,
Where, from the bow,
Piercing the wild deer's side,
Swift arrows go.
When from the waters bright
Fades the red sun,
Following the evening light,
Darkness comes on.
So has my spirit drooped,
Since from my home
Traced I my weary steps,