Over the fields
a butterfly
playied on a flower and she stopped and rested on it
There was a child
looking at that flower
he looked again,
but the butterfly was gone
The butterfly
flew on a tree,
the child ran there
but she was gone again
Fly and fly and fly,
run and run and run
ran the boy beside her
and playied with her
Flies over the fields
races in the wood
and the sun was going down
but the sun had gone down
There was a child
sitting on the road
he was looking for
the way to go back home
Branches of trees
seems to reach him
face in his hands:
he was crying
Cry and cry and cry,
fly and fly and fly,
rose in flights his sky
searching for the home