there was a bonhomous-lugubrious forestal fairy of gloss
named the winged-tender homelike-butterfly

as well as a flimsy eolian wind like Icarus
they have met with Icarus-like phantasy

in the wood glade at the morning-fair time
at the point where a fairy´s cot stand in the native bleakness

yes the golden eternity called the lake of the habitat
in fact at the blissful morning star bright and early

the wind is carrying for the homelike fairy a dreamy muse-like pinion
carrying leaves as wells and also slit with the most beauteous poem

they belonged to a throng of propitious Erlkings
the small slits with the most mignonne words as a vernal dream

were given to wind by svelte-breeze poets-ghosts
the wind and the fairy have dreamt such the halcyon Thor in harmony

of an eternal hobgoblin living in clover
and of Eol imbued with the gilt pennon-dream—dreamerlet

flier of a muse-like daydream through glamorously fledged homeland
has unfolded his lovely angelic philosophy
the fairy has utilized it big-hearted fondly spellwork

both became genuinely friends for the olive-green sempiternities
the wind all fairy-esque daydreaming such a turquoise lake of watery star*

the fairy appreciates the primeval being of windy strong
along with a subtle-divine hex of (Zeus-like)-balmy home countries

***

* Moon by Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale.