This little world recalls a rise, a fall of morning tide.
A hovering snowflake on St. Perpetua's Day.

There is no magic such that
A falling leaf may vanish in mid air.

Remember good fortune if you will
As this little world will remember you.

The least feather can't be lost from the story,
Tell yourself not to sorrow to long.

Every step, every turn of the head
Brings a new little world into view.