The grown-ups are silent, Their shadows are bent. But the thorn has a root, And the root has a heart. I am small, but I am not silent. I will ask the mountain: “Where did you hide the start?”
Who tied you? Where is the rope? I don’t fight hate. I only hope. You stole the water, but you weep. Give me your thorn—I’ll help you sleep. kirikou musical
The mountain was a mother, The sorceress, a child. The little one who asked the “why” Made the river run wild. So dance, so dance, so dance— The thorn is gone, the wound is name. Kirikou, Kirikou, The water knows your name. The grown-ups are silent, Their shadows are bent
Why is everyone afraid?
The sun is a drum with no hands, The river has gone to the sand. The sorceress walks with her thorn, And we are too tired to mourn. I will ask the mountain: “Where did you hide the start
Little flea, little spark, Why walk into the dark? The men tied me to a tree, Now the village drinks from me— A bitter cup, a thorn’s lullaby. Go home, small one, before you cry.