***

Fallen branches and twigs broke into flames in the deep, untrodden forest,
The flame lit everything up in the flashes of scarlet and green.
Wisps of smoke rose straight to the sky, rustling in chorus,
As if ribbons of silk, carried away by the wind.

Above tops of these furry trees, up there in the skies,
The Moon swung in the crib under a blanket embroidered in stars,
Disturbed by touching tunes of guitars under the pines,
By nagging sounding songs, flowing from pure, young hearts.

But the song was not sung to the end and the heart didn’t tell all it meant.
Fog was floating over mirrors of rivers and lakes, in the cold, quiet dales,
When suddenly, loud and bright, a twitter pierced through the air,
And gloomy shadows of night went out of sight, lazily fading away.

Many a time different paths will meet here to join in the one,
Which will run on the grass, studded with clovers, to the edge of the woods,
All through the fields, up the hills to follow the Sun,
As it rises in meadows all sprinkled with sweet, fragrant dew.