As the night is falling,
The Sleep comes in the house to children,
To tell us „good night”, and to tell toys fairy tales.
The dwarfs are stone-still in their little house
Where the fairy gives the prince her hand in marriage,
And they all are happy.
And the mysterious moon will be their priest from up above in the sky,
Where a lot of stars are gathering together.
In her tiny glimmering clothes, as beautiful as a dream,
The moon sinks in our chamber, even though the window is already shut.
And in the morning, as vivid as they can be,
The heroes from the stories keep silent, and they wait for us to play again.
Every single toy – with all her universe –
Has a soul in it, and it is alive.
Only the adults do not understand this…