Autumn has come, cover my heart with a shelter, the shadow of a tree, or your own shadow better. I fear that I'll see you no more, that I'll go, That sharp wings to the clouds I will grow, That in a strange eye you are going to hide which will close with a bitter good-bye. And then I go near the rocks and shut up I drown all the words in the sea, I call whistling the moon and I rise it above and I change it into powerful love.