The Tale of a Shepherd

When it is time to leave the hamlet
To leave the vales and the thornful paths
To seek fresh and sweet grasses
For the little bleating lamb and sheep
The shepherd wakes from his slumber

The roads are rocky and mountainous
Filled with stubborn stones and quarry
The mistletoe grow on the roadside
But the herd march on, happily to other places
Minding the bushes and hare traps

The morning is mild, the sun not awake yet
The clouds heavy with dew and mists
And when the herd sees the gliitering stream
They rush forward for a splash and cold drink
Gulping and disturbing the little fishes

The shepherd bends to wash his sooty face
A young lamb rushes to him, nudging him lightly
Then he stretches his palm, touching her face
Running his hands up and down her neck
And in that delight, she bleats excitedly

The noon comes with the suns heat
The trees provide shed for the shepherd and his herd
He sits on a rock to watch the amazing sight before him;
Lovely lamb and fine sheep grazing humbly
On a vast green valley, full of life

He looks up to the tree branches
As beautiful plummages sing joyfully
And the humming bees that stay on the tree
Smiles draw across his handsome ruddy face
For this lovely sight he sees each day

Even so, the airs become milder as the sun set
The herd walk up to him as he whistle to them
In a few minutes, he has called all to himself
And towards the hamlet behind the hills, they went
Happy again to splash through the waters of the stream

In the evening when the sun is finally set
The happy shepherd returns home to his fluffy bed
For a quick modest dinner of warm milk and bread
And on his bed he turns and tosses to find some rest
Counting the sheep in his mind, and smiling in his sleep