Sitting beneath the oak tree
Listening to the gossip of the birds
Staring at the dark sky
With the moon smiling sadly
Sitting under mother oak
Listening to grandpa’s tale
Clapping and smiling under
The gaze of the moon
But now mother oak is deserted
Mother oak is now childless
Mother oak is now bored
No grandpa’s story, no children’s laughter
The dark sky is now dangerous
The night is now to be feared
Who is bold to tell tales beneath mother oak?
When the lion lies in wait for his prey
Oh motherland!

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