In My Clearing Where It Never Snows
Part IV
In my clearing, where it never snows
I learn of things that nobody knows.
Even now when the animals sleep
I wander in the snow so deep
The forest still grows old.
I think of all the things I've been told
By the corvae in his poetic rhyme,
The birth of a forest and the birth of time.
I watched the prince grow into a king,
I've listened to his song, which all the birds sing
All the birds except the corvae
Never a single note, never on a single day
But he would sit and tell me of how the forest grows
In my clearing, where it never snows
I learn of things that nobody knows.
|