Star Catcher - Old Silver Key

I’ll gather a handful of stars

Sitting in a boat-crescent

Will disperse

The waves-clouds

With chilling wind

Hit the bank shore… tree tops

And descend the branches

To the forest lake

My crown of stars

I’ll wrap in a sack of moss

And emerald fragrant grass

Throw into the waters dark

For huge black fish swallow

When the water turns into ice

Let the wanderer tired

Catch that fish

With moonlight, with silent old song

Let my crown of stars be a gift for him

Milky way… his throne