Descendant

The days when I was young

The days when I will die

Autumn leaves lie on the ground

To wither so much like me

Unto thee

Shall all flesh come

Grant me eternal rest

Seven, seven they are

No gate will shut them out

Like snakes through grass they glide

Like wind, like wind they storm

Fall has swept the fields

The woods will come alive

Heaven and earth converge

And the stars will disappear