In a Druid´s soul is kept the gold of rainbow. A druid wanted to go into a forest and pick some fungi, to cook later a magic super decoction from them. In the Druid´s soul there was as well the Golden Fleece. He gathered some mushrooms such as the red-capped scaber stalks-fungi, a boletus rufus and a good foxy bolete. In that dear Druids´s soul he found the joy of butterflies. He met on a path next to an ancient Zeus-altar a lovely wildcat. The tender druid and the animal wanted to speak. The dreams of muses appeared in that Druid's soul. The wildcat wanted to tell the druid his riddle. It was difficult: what is the most amazing star in a romantic heaven?.
In our Druid´s soul there came the magic wing of Ibycus-cranes. The druid answered falsely, it was a morning-star. A Rhodes-star was true. The druid had to give to the wildcat the scaber stalks. In our dear Druid´s soul came the tears of luck. The herbalist that he was, he met on a path near an ancient stream of Apollo, the dreamer, a boar from distance. They began speaking later. In that Druid´s soul then the amber from angels came. The boar told the druid his most magnificent riddle. The druid had to say, what is the best shooting star, with which he has ever dreamed. Now in the meek Druid´s soul rose the brightness of the Augean stables. The druid answered falsely: it was this in the German mountains Harz.
The boar said – is it true that you see shooting stars before the rainbow? The druid gave the boleti rufus to the boar. In the dear Druid´s soul stayed the diamond of history. The druid met later, on his way into a cave of the beautiful god Hephaestus, a wild shrewd fox with golden eyes. The fox wanted to speak. In our Ovidian Druid´s heart shone a shooting star at dawn and dusk.
Having welcomed, he told the kind druid a puzzle. It sounded mysterious: what comet dust is the most dazzling in the whole world? In Druid´s soul the answer came as the herculean stars. The druid answered falsely though: it may be a comet dust of a fabulous, kind evening. With the heaven being true to the Druid, the foxy bolete was given to the fox. In our tender Druid´s soul the fungi of eternity stayed as the sempiternal being of time.
The druid lost the fungi. He was happy – Artemis showed him – as a good man – a path to an amaranthine glade with many honey agarics. In the Druid´s heart unfurled the wings from a heavenly heart. At home the druid rested and he cooked the decoction from the honey agarics, which gave him eternally strong – wings of the spell and charm, and an apollonianly picturesque sword.
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