I wish out to the hazel wood Because a fire was in my head And I cut and peeled a hazel wand And hooked a berry with a thread And when white moths were on the wing And moth-like stars were flickering out I dropped a berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire aflame But something rustled on the door And someone called me by by name It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossoms in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands I will find out where she has goner And kiss her lips andc take her hands And walk among long dappled grass And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon The golden apples of the sunTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
