We stopped the time in the middle of the field
To study the effect of the sunrays
Upon the poppy petals.
Now it is high time for dreaming seeds
To jingle in a gipsy dance.

In the sky mosquitoes play the dulcimers!
In the dust ants organize reprisals
Against a cricket stumbled over his feelings…
The singing bumble bees turn on red cups
On the golden salver of yearning.

Appalled words blow their wings.
I open their cages, yet they waver begging serenity.
A train engine is beating in their depths,
Whistling straight ahead in the sky.
Ay, ay, ay! They fling themselves into the air over the field!

A field full of stars;
We – two children among them.