O warm light on a winter’s day,
may you linger and keep astray,
darkened songs of woods gray,
swinging limbs and trunks a sway.
For a torch lights a wooded hill,
quickly danced with nimble will,
whistles play so sharp n’ shrill,
twirling about the evenings still.
Will you come, with pipes in hand?
to a hidden field in a secret land,
where our merrymaking is so grande,
and a flowers growth is never planned.
A place of play from July till June,
eat n’ drink under midnights moon,
to depart would be to soon,
so please listen, as we sing our tune.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.