There was a maiden, young and sweet, Whose parents left her all alone; being one year old, she was laid down a bed of cold, grey How she survived nobody knew for the wood was so dark and cold, but growing up she learned the truth and got a heart, pure as gold.
And every time she ran through the meadows and everytime she sang a song, there was this silvery light all around her everywhere she came along.
She did not fear the howling wolves, she did not fear the blackest night, they the family she´d lost so she grew up in nature´s might. The only that frightened her was when she heard the hunter´s shot, and every time this cruel man came there was a rain of tears blood.
And every time she cried for the fallen and everytime he killed a deer, oh, how she cried her hot, bitter tears, this man was near.
So she did love and she did hate and grew a wise and old; she lived life in a wonderland with so much magic to behold. She knew the wood, she knew the wolves, she knew the deers, they all were one, they played with owls and unicorns, but then one day the girl gone.
And then it rained as if heaven was crying for the wood´s lady now was dead; so the beasts carried to her meadows and in full bloom was her last bed.