When a “nonsense filled with sense” becomes “nonsense making fine sense”, poetry is born that children adore. Only the foolish cannot understand why Šrut’s “little people” keep trying to figure out (no matter how good at figures they are), why their mother tongue hides so many pitfalls. Every language guards all that cannot be communicated to any other language and it is precisely this ability to point out these incongruities that the author has retained all the way to his “second childhood”. In his sometimes funny sometimes melancholy rhymes names and idioms undergo a journey to find out their literal meaning and on their way they encounter various misplaced words, looking for another to form a pair. Although everything is somehow “unofficial” here, the longing for beauty makes the normal reader awe and the expert wonder.