In winter we’ll travel in a little pink carriage With cushions of blue. We’ll be fine. A nest of mad kisses waits In each corner too.
You’ll shut your eyes, not to see, through the glass, Grimacing shadows of evening, Those snarling monsters, a crowd going past Of black wolves and black demons.
Then you’ll feel your cheek tickled quite hard… A little kiss, like a maddened spider, Will run over your neck…
And you’ll say: “Catch it!†bowing your head, – And we’ll take our time finding that creature – Who travels so far…