Im ersten aller Spiele - Dornenreich

Das Kind ist seine Schritte

ES lacht, es träumt sehr viel

Weiß nicht und lebt so Mitte

Es fühlt allein das Spiel

In Form und Farbe, Licht und Regung

Es mag sein und liebt Bewegung

Fühlt das Kind

In Form und Farbe, Licht und Handlung

Es mag sein und liebt Verwandlung

Fühlt das Kind

Den blauen Vogel lichtgefiedert

Fühlt das Kind und zeigt gen Himmel

Es mag sein

Kristall’ne Kugel rollt und funkelt

Farbentanz mit Lichterfreunden

Fühlt das Kind

Von Kind zu Allbegeisterung feine Saiten sind gespannt

Mit Tau und Tränen reich besetzt

Sie klingen klar in strahlend'

Jetzt

The child is its steps

It laughs, it dreams so much

It doesn’t know and lives the cente

Feeling nothing but the game alone

In form and colour, light and emotion

It likes to be, and it loves movement

The child feels

In form and colour, light and deed

It likes to be, and it loves transformation

The child feels

The blue bird, feathered with light

Is felt by the child, pointing to the sky

It likes to be

Crystal ball that rolls and shines

Dance of colours and of lights

The child feels

Fine threads are woven from child to cosmic rapture

Richly bejewelled with dew and tears

Sounding clear in the radiant

Now

The child is his steps

It laughs, it dreams a lot

Don't know and lives in the middle

It alone feels the game

In shape and colour, light and movement

It may be and loves movement

Feel the child

In form and colour, light and action

It may be and loves transformation

Feel the child

Light-feathered the blue bird

Feel the child and point to the sky

It could be

Crystal ball rolls and sparkles

Color dance with light friends

Feel the child

From child to universal enthusiasm fine strings are stretched

Richly occupied with dew and tears

You sound clear in 'radiant'

now

The child is its steps

It laughs, it dreams so much

It doesn't know and lives the cente

Feeling nothing but the game alone

In shape and colour, light and emotion

It likes to be, and it loves movement

The child feels

In shape and colour, light and deed

It likes to be, and it loves transformation

The child feels

The blue bird, feathered with light

Is felt by the child, pointing to the sky

It likes to be

Crystal ball that rolls and shines

Dance of colors and of lights

The child feels

Fine threads are woven from child to cosmic rapture

Richly bejeweled with dew and tears

Sounding clear in the radiant

Now