there is a fire
through the fog
in the forest
as old as god

there is a breeze
which fans the flame
caressing our children
touching our dames

there is a hunter
who watches it burn,
cooking with blunder
his freshly-caught game

there is a star
that shines in the night
reflecting the fire
as a twinkling white

there is a season
when the air is so cold
that men forget treason
and together, they grow

there is an ancient fire
that through ephemeral fog
burns in the land of forests
to be seen, only by god