Further, deeper in the trees I wondered all alone, Seeking for the wooden piece Ten hours from the down. One wood was extremely dry, Another’s too much lithe. Oak? I will not even try, The same about with
Suddenly I saw my dream: The tree which was so cute, Like shining with the magic fire, Twas perfect for my flute. I touched the trunk but felt a chill, Heard frightful scratch and howl. Then darkness fall, returning still, And I saw giant Owl
“How dared you to touch the Relic?” Owl asked and stared at me. “Even spirits can’t pick any Leaf from our Sacred Tree”. “This branch is what I desire For the springy clear flute”. Owl said: “So will be trial. You’ll get the branch if you’re so good”.
Chorus
There were beasts and there were spirits in the fade of tree, Nice and mossy, huge and scary, dancing, while I sing. Filled up goblets of birch bark with the seasoned mead, Drank to new-heard stories, chanted for their breed.