Ballads

The Child in green,

Used to walk along his daily road,

Smiling to the life that had been,

Walking steadily but never got bored,

Although he was poor boy of a camp,

He was aiming to be a great man,

That child in the green....

This morning he passed as always he does,

The books were heavy over his back,

The teacher did announce him for a prize,

Thus very happy, indeed he was,

Shots were heard, the people did hark,

That evening did come, but the child did not,

A rifle did break all of his bones,

That old man who lived there as a farmer,

The wife and the town were proud of him,

He never stopped and worked harder,

Although too old, but still loves them,

He used to count his family even bigger,

As all of his trees were among his count ...

Morning he starts and sometimes after dawn,

Walking to his field, the birds around fly,

This day is unusual so does not feel his own,

The birds did not come who will tell why?

He arrived at his field but trees were gone,