The still forest rings with the silence of dusk The calm broken by the piper's song Wild Pan with is pipes, a deep scent of musk Once again to magic the forest will belong
The trees sway lithely to the aria's ebb And melt into life, as does the sweet stream Nymphs dance in an intricate web The steps of the dance so much like a dream
Holly, her boughs bright with berries Willow, lithe in silvery dress Birch, beautiful through the scars she carries Beech glows in the moon's caress
Elm sips wine, cheeks flushed Pine by Holly escorted Oak with pride stands silent, hushed Willow by Maple is courted
The nymphs of water silently dance The moonlight becomes their splendour The trees stand quiet, caught in trance To Pan's song they do surrender
Hours pass in moonlit celebration Wine and nectar abundant The music and dancing pure elation The joy and exultation redundant
But the horizon is kisses by the sun And the piping music wanes The dance of the moon now is done The memory is all that remains
But the dusk shall once again appear Festivities will start once again Pan will play his pipes with cheer And magic will once again reign
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Spring is coming |