When Mountains Bid Farewell

Every time

I leave the valleys,

I hear this voice

of the mountains,

The peaks yearning,

Don’t leave us in solitude oh Child!

You’re born to sleep in our meadows ,

And stroll in the Wild.

These pines long to be picked by your tender hands,

And the chill mountain winds ,

Long to sweep through your long black strands.

The rivulets love to chuckle ,

When you play with the rubbles,

And your tiny feet

walk your way through the river bed sand.

It’s a lovely treat to see you gleaming,

When after a cold sudden rain in the night,

You watch the Sun through the woods beaming.

Oh, let us hug you oh my Child!

And shower Mother nature’s choicest blessings,

After all you my dear are her most beloved being

Leave a Reply

Theme: Baskerville 2 by Anders Noren.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: