Sweep the leaves together,
Yellow, brown and red,
Let us make a bonfire
Now that they are dead.

Chestnut leaves and beech leaves,
Ash and lime and oak,
Fir-cones and pine needles
Kindle into smoke.

Leaves that all the summer
Gave us cool and shade--
What will be left of them
When our bonfire's made?

Only death-like ashes,
But from this same dust
Suns one day will fashion
Life anew, we trust.