In the woods near the silent brook
There sat a maiden with golden locks.
All was well, yet her eyes set down
A hint of darkness in the pretty scene.
The clock ticked by and there came a crock,
That too a witty talking one.
“Oh, dear lady why so sad?”
The girl with the golden locks startled and cried.
Yet somewhere her heart felt good,
To share a tale she felt she should.
In the mountains deep behind the brook
I lived in a hut with a hole in the haulm.
Sunshine and rain came right inside
And drenched and dried all within.
“Oh Dear Lady, we’ll redo the thatch”,
It’s not the thatch that drenched my cheeks,
It’s my man too close to my heart.
Yes, on a fairy tale day
Came the man riding a horse, mighty and black.
I led him through valleys and plains,
I felt so home with a man astray.
And the sun setting to a stormy night.
With the charming prince of my dreams, away and lost,
My eyes passed out and feet gave up,
Yet my thoughts blamed none but me.
Too naïve was I to lead him away,
The charming dream that came my way.
The crock felt sad for the teary lassie,
“Oh dear, my dear don’t cry so clear”.
“A lover’s life is a mirage of lies,
No long it lasts than a stormy night,
A sandstorm wipes it with the sun,
And the moon so dark to keep it bright”.
“Be brave to see the setting sun,
For it will rise again my dear,
Now let’s fix that leaky thatch,
For the storm might come and drench again”.
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