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Little Bird, the Storm is near,
With lightning bolts and wind and thunder,
Turning all the Earth assunder!
- He is my friend, I have no fear.
Little Bird, here comes the Snow,
He burris all that he can see:
From tiny rock to giant tree!
- He is my friend, I need not go.
Little Bird, the Summer Sun,
Brings with it a raging fire,
Flee, before the flames rise higher!
- He is my friend, I shall not run.
Little Bird, I can hear Rain,
Turning into hail stones,
To knock you down and freeze your bones!
- He is my friend I will remain.
Little Bird! Your friends have gone!
- But I have none.
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