Thanksgiving Song

1. Swing the shining sickle, cut the ripened grain,
Flash it in the sunlight, swing it once again,
Tie the golden grain heads into shining sheaves,
Beautiful their colors as the autumn leaves.

2. Pick the rosy apples, pack away with care,
Gather in the corn ears, gleaming everywhere.
Now the fruits are gathered, all the grains are in,
Nuts are in the attic, corn is in the bin.

3. Loudly blows the north wind through the shivering trees,
Bare are all the branches, fallen all the leaves,
Gathered is the harvest for another year,
Now our day of gladness, Thanksgiving day is here.