The players swayed on stage
Resurrecting melodies of ages gone
Their flutes and pipes of woods
Descendants of the Black Forest.
I crept through underbrush by tooth and nail
My shoes tangled and snarled in my footprints
This afternoon sunlight melts not the morning frost
Yet I creep on in search of the woodland center.
Here she stands, proud and unafraid
Among her sisters, their grove shines silver in the dusk
The petals of their hair announce the coming of night storms
I take cover between the boughs and pray to their wisdom and sage:
Lovely ladies, you are so kind to take in a lonesome traveler
Your smooth trunks and lacy fingers are too much for weary eyes to admire
You know my mission, my desire
If I should see daybreak, I swear to uplift
Your goodness and your beauty.
One bough of one limb, kindly do spare me, o sisters
From it I will carve the dances and hymns of my heart
And breathe my essence into your chamber
For all to hear and enjoy
In your honor I sing your songs.
I will sway with your spirit
And rooms will fill with joy and life
Let the pipes sound and bells ring
To life, to life, my life to yours, and yours for all time.