Shooting stars
Please don’t go to sleep tonight.
Come into the garden to stare at the sky. Come out on barefoot to be at one with the nature. Put on my shirt and step on herbs to squeeze their juices out.
Do you see the glimmer of the shooting stars?
They resemble the dandelion seeds that enter your room when you open the windows in the morning.
You can feel the smooth texture of the seeds. But stars are so far away…Take a look into a fountain. The glimmer of a shooting star is as soft as its reflection in water.
The ant leaned against a carved wooden pillar and took a deep breath.
The scent of hay sheaves was blending in the air with the smoke of burnt resin and crushed herbs. The ant whispered with a quivering voice: how could I feel a star? The cricket smiled and kissed the ant gently many times. It feels so good, whispered the ant. As they were approaching the house the ant said: do you see the reflection of the stars into the small pools of rainwater?
I will step on them like walking on stars.
Ant! You are bleeding a little. You stepped on a thorn. I didn’t feel anything, the ant said. Let’s go to the river and bathe.
It rained all the night with stars and fruits under a big red moon.

The family of an ant
The small house is not visible from the road which winds uphill.
Anyway, at a closer look you may see a thin thread of smoke climbing from the chimney hidden beneath the green leaves. You have to look downwards and follow with your eyes the smoke thinner than a needle to find the house. Inside the house the ant and the cricket are drinking their coffee. You forgot to bring the grains inside the house the ant said. They could get moldy. The cricket smiled and kissed the ant's nose full of ink and said: I like moldy grains and smiled.
The ant struggled to free itself from the cricket's hug, but the cricket kissed the ant again and again. I am going to bring the grains inside the house. It was a joke. Then we will take a stroll in the woods. This evening promises to be fine and it would be a pity to stay home.
The ant looked at the cricket with its big eyes and whispered: I have a feeling that we will fight each other soon.
The cricket mumbled: “what?” and held its breath.
The ant smiled. With snowballs, in winter. It was a joke.
By the time the night fell the cricket had unloaded all the grains and the ant had cooked a big slice of a mushroom.