Die berg kry koud soos ek
Het hom met ‘n wolk bedek
Maar die wolk is koud en nat
Soos die windjie aan my vat
Binne lek die vlam die hout
Buite lê die berg blou en koud
Met sy wit mus or sy kop
Geniet ek ‘n warm koppie sop
Soos die rotes op die vuur
En die wind verby hulle skuur
As die druppels as na onder val
En kout op die aarde val
L.C.J. Engelbrecht
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