Ouranos comes down the hills

He comes down before dawn,

Steals the horses and the cows,

Whistles to be heard by the children,

So they go running to their parents’ bed.

A little fright never hurt no one,

Keeps the babies from getting into too much trouble.

Except me, strangely enough,

I’d crawl out from under the sheets to stay near the window,

Watching the man coming down the hills,

Looking for something to steal.

He ain’t a man-eater,

He just likes to savor fear.

He’s out from midnight to six,

For a long stroll near the villages.

He lives up in the hills, all alone,

Rumors say he ate his kids,

Little me knew for a fact, though :

He never did.

The sly Stag’s the culprit.

Ouranos’ a simple hunter,

Really likes to wander,

Even walks among the elks,

Sometimes stops to listen to the river’s complaints.

One night, coming down in the valley, he saw me,

With his small black eyes, he’s tall like a moose.

Lucky for me, he just turned away and headed for the next farm.

There’s much to say about bad kids,

But they never not have a good story to tell.

At dawn I heard a knock on the window,

Got up and pulled the curtain.

Little note with a cute BB gun :

« Come up and get me. Good hunting, girlie. »