In the forest, close to night

When the round, pale moon begins to shine its light,

And the people are all asleep in their beds,

Closing their eyes and resting their heads,

In that wood of frosty snow,

Where no one has ever dared to go,

A creature, strong, yet light as a feather,

Stands and listens to the icy weather

She's statuesque, with frosted whiskers

She's beautiful and light as a whisper

Yes, in that lonely wood of snow,

Lives the gentle, phantom doe.

Danielle Kieschnick