Mio, my Mio by goldseven
Often Sorrowbird had sung for me in the rose garden, but I had never understood what he was singing. Now I knew. He sang of all the lost ones, of the weaver’s little daughter, of Nonno’s brothers and Jiri’s sister, and many, many others who the evil Sir Kato had taken and brought to his castle.
"Jum-Jum," I said, and my voice sounded strange. "Jum-Jum, I will ride to the Outer Lands."
"I know," said Jum-Jum.
"How can you know?" I asked. "I’ve only known for a few moments."
"You know so little, Mio," said Jum-Jum.
"But you, you know everything?" I asked.
"Yes, I know," said Jum-Jum. "I have known for a long time that you will ride to the Outer Lands. Everyone knows."
"Yes," said Jum-Jum. "Sorrowbird knows. The weaver knows. A hundred white horses know. The whole Forest of Darkness knows, the trees whisper about it, the grass and the apple trees outside, they all know. Every shepherd on the Island of Green Meadows knows, and he plays about it on his whistle at night. Nonno knows and his grandmother knows, Jiri and his brothers and sisters know, and the Well that Murmurs at Dusk knows. I tell you, they all know."
"And my father, the king…" I whispered.
"Your father, the king, has always known," said Jum-Jum.
Astrid Lindgren: Mio, my Mio
A childhood favourite of mine.