Bright Eyes in the Grass
Bright eyes, buds of living starlight,
Bright eyes, how can they close and fail?
How can thy petals, snow-white shinning suddenly seem so frail?
Are they a kind of memory of warriors who died?
Are they a last reminder of the tears their children cried?
Bright eyes, snow in the starlight,
Bright eyes, stars fallen in the grass
Ever remembering forgotten sons, the souls of warriors past.
Is it a kind of memory, that comes with growing night?
Where bright eyes blossom on death's dark way, small stars kindled bright,