Saplings sprout from spring soil,
Shapers shape them with great toil,
But none dared touch the bark of thee,
The Acorn destined for Elden Tree.
Wise the owl sitting on your limb,
Silent the snake winding long and slim,
Around your trunk the fates do dance,
Both fey and mild take revered stance.
You shelter us e'er from the storm,
You defend us from the angry swarm,
War can't tear your mighty root,
Strength is in your every fruit.
Saplings still sprout 'round your base,
The shapers work at mighty pace,
All revere your o'er-arching boughs,
In Elden Tree, our worries drowse.