Bearta, Bearta, sister dear,
Things are now becoming clear,
Searching in the forest near,
Deeper, deeper, with no fear.
Always happy, for me to come,
And help you, some.
Collect the daily stock,
For the cooking pot.
With my leather bag in tow,
For the things, you to show,
In the wild, they do grow.
Much it is, that you do know.
Teaching me the forest lore,
What's good to eat, what makes you sore,
Respecting nature, for,
It will provide, we won't be poor.
Berries, herbs, and roots, and more !
Holding my hand, when I'm afraid.
How I miss you so, sister dear,
.... forest maid.