I know I'm still lying awake for a long time, because a neighbor told me. He just said, tomorrow morning the old birch will be cut down. And the road here is made very wide. They didn't think about the birch. As long as it lives, it's not too late. The old birch must not die, as long as it is a bird. As long as every new spring brings young leaves. Let the wild arches bloom again under its green branches. The old birch must not die, because otherwise I am far too sad. A tree only needs a small place, there are enough wide streets. As long as a man still loves the trees, this earth is still fine. Think again whether it is right, whether this road here is so incredibly important. You will see, then the birch will stand. The old birch must not die, as long as it is a bird. As long as every new spring brings young leaves. Let the wild arches bloom again under its green branches. The old birch must not die, because otherwise I am far too sad. What can I do for it? I only sing my little song. And I wish so much that it draws into your hearts. The old birch must not die, as long as it is a bird. As long as every new spring brings young leaves. Let the wild arches bloom again under its green branches. The old birch must not die, because otherwise I am far too sad. The old birch must not die, as long as it is a bird. As long as every new spring brings young leaves. Let the wild arches bloom again under its green branches. The old birch must not die, because otherwise I am far too sad. The old birch must not die, because otherwise I am far too sad.