He, who in morning day is quite, The owl, the bird of vespertine The hunter of the night In folks tongue "the wise". He observes everything in the forest With his all rounding head. Will envy to his robust Patience and hearing a human head In forest nothing has changed. Creatures live as they used to live. The way they hunt never been rearranged And for food they never used to strive. In forest rarely human treads are seen. So, peacefully the wood, animals do sleep. Woods are not afraid as a woodpile to demean, Animals because of humans to weep. From the near village humans do come, But not all and not so often they are seen. The hunters step for their purpose, After taking they do abandon the scene. And so do the fishermen, mushroom-pickers and the others. For long do stay only those who escapes the smothers. Night time visitors have their own preference Compared to the guests of the day light time. Among nightfolks there are difference Of what they do in vespertine. The underage trod for bravery. After, they tell about their journey to their peers to impend How they left the forest in cursory As something happened that they cannot understand. Then, the lads that are not binded with marriage, But that are overwhelmed with love Try their lasses to encourage To leave parent's house for a time and under a nocturnal trees to belove. Some find a moonlight piercing place, So with songs and poetic words to share their love. Some try to find the darkest place, So no one could see how with moaning sounds they share their love. More older folks stay out of woodland, In house they have sweet talk with their spouses. The eldest folks gather the smallest for fairyland With tales of their own ventures and legends of the heroes. The owl sits and observes all of it Of what happens in the night. He silently catches the mice not only to eat He takes the information and their lives to abate, As mouse sneaks through every hole, He sniffs and sees what owl can't see And the owl wants to know all, For he can't without knowledge be. Animals come to owl for advice, But mostly nothing is heard in return. He seldomly stops the vice, Scarcely does something to change the turn. The owl rarely shares with his wisdom. He multiplies but it is locked for others. What is the worth of your wisdom When you don't share it with others?