In a glen where sunlight weaves,
Where whispering winds through tall pine leaves,
A village blooms in emerald hue,
Where elves in laughter spend their view.

Cottages of moss and ivy dressed,
With mushroom caps and flowers pressed,
They dance in circles, hand in hand,
In a joyful, merry woodland band.

The brook sings sweet, a crystal song,
As busy bees hum all day long,
With glimmering wings, the fairies glide,
While fireflies twinkle, dotting the tide.

Beneath the boughs of ancient trees,
They gather herbs and fragrant teas,
With laughter bright and stories spun,
Their days are filled with endless fun.

At twilight’s kiss, the stars appear,
The elves weave dreams, with hearts sincere,
With moonlit feasts on blankets spread,
They share their wishes, hopes, and bread.

In this happy village, joy takes flight,
Where every heart beats pure and bright,
In harmony with nature’s call,
The elves find magic, and love binds all.