A box full of treasure and a golden comb I was surely give to you when the moon is [young?] And christmas is in june. I will paint an evening of which there will be few, When the sky is water and the sun is blue, And all this is just for you. A handkerchief of silver to brush away your tear, A sword of finest leather to match your paper spear, For when the day draws near. When i will write these words in languages unknown I'll be the one to tell you your heart is made of stone And christmas will never be in june.