Middle Summer
Day was long,
Night's black fiddle
Sings its song.
Stars are looking through the hole
In the old grandmother's shawl.
Girls are sleeping.
Boys are quiet,
Please, stop weeping,
Mum is tired.
Close your eyes
And wait for dream
Tale so nice
There will be seen.
You will ride
So far from here,
Golden tide
Will rock you, dear.