Let's roam, get lost into the mist,
Float down a cold wood stream,
Meet a chance friend that will assist,
Smile at the sun's first beam.
Let's split in halves the heaven's screen,
Count stars on either side,
Surrounded by the woods' dark-green,
All dotted with bugs' light.
There's no escape... Some dreadful beasts
You are for sure to face,
"What shall I do? Get lost? Return?..."
With you it's not the case.
You're gonna check if from the well
Your echoes will come back,
And see how greatest oak-trees dwell,
Oh, dear! You've lost your sack!...
In panic fussing here and there,
So puzzled what to do,
You'll hear an out-calling friend,
A guide to go to.
Awaiting you, the friend's concerned,
So worried where you've been,
The tea is ready, wood is burnt,
You're telling what you've seen.
So many times reheated, cooled,
The kettle's standing hot,
It's count(ing) stars that berries are
Expecting in the pot.
The tea is steaming, jams are brought,
You're seated on the log,
Recalling what it means to be
A hedgehog in the fog.
It's time to chat, adore the sky,
The smoking flue behind.
Your friend is talking on and on,
But you don't seem to mind.
4.0