The dove and the crow

  Up in the tree,

The tall oak tree,

There nests a bird,

A pale white bird,

A bird with a scarlet breast.

 Down flies the bird,

The pale white bird,

It drops a stone,

A great black stone,

And it cracks the ice

In the bath,

The golden bath. 

Now comes the bird,

A dove,

A pale white dove,

The pale white dove,

The dove with a scarlet breast.

It comes down to bathe,

Down to drink,

 Down comes the dove,

The pale white dove,

The dove with the scarlet breast.

 Here comes a crow,

A tar-black crow,

It comes to drive off the dove,

To drive it off

Like it would

A sparrow.

 But look!

 The dove fights back,

The pale white dove,

The dove with the scarlet breast.

It fights the crow,

That tar-black crow,

Underneath the starry sky,

In the leafy glade.

 The crow gives a shriek,

A hair-raising shriek,

A shriek that sounds of death.

 It flies off with a flash,

A flash of wings,

The flash of tar-black wings.

 The dove quiets down,

Down to drink,

Down to bathe,

Quiets down in the

Starry, starry glade.

Up flies the dove,

The pale white dove,

The dove with the scarlet breast.

She flies up to nest,

Nest through the night,

To incubate her eggs.

  But look! 

Here comes the crow,

The tar-black crow,

 The crow driven off

 Before. 

The crow comes to fight,

To fight,

To fight!

And the dove,

The pale white dove,

The dove with the scarlet breast,

Takes flight. 

And up flies the crow,

The tar black crow,

Up towards the blackened pines,

In which the dove roosts.

 It flies up to the nest,

The silky brown nest,

The dove’s nest,

The pale white dove’s nest.

 It eats the eggs,

The silver eggs,

Down they go

Through it’s throat. 

The tar-black crow,

It lets off a shriek,

 A shriek that sounds of death.

With a cackle

And a flap,

It flies off

 For a nap,

Leaving the dove,

The pale white dove,

The dove with the scarlet breast,

To brood.