A fairy story

In a green valley a good grandmother

Sat day and night and wove

Wove and knitted, folding fabrics

Sewing for the heavens a dress of light blue

With a withered hand, shaking the weavers boom

The warp and woof – light blue and light

Around the roller the fabric grows

The skies are wearing a Sabbath dress

Grandmother laughs, puts out her hands

A green valley under the light blue skies

At the top of the hill shaking tree tops

From another land the storks arrive

The storks arrive and return flying:

“Grandmother, it is sad in our country

Grandmother, in our country there is no blue

The skies wear a dress of sand

Patchwork over patchwork

The sky is grey and the valley is ice”.

Grandmother folds all the threads

Grandmother gathers the light blue fabric

Grandmother goes to another country

To sew the skies a glorious dress

She sews at night, she sews during the day

And the valley is green and the skies are bright

The skies wore a blue dress

Throughout the world the great Sabbath