The limpid water of upland brooks is falling down from rocks into lakes
and the look to the green valleys of virgin nature delights my spirit
springy meadows are coloured by thousands of flowers and flying butterflyies
I smell the flavoured air and the wind is dishevelling my hair
Lowlands and hills, my rivers and brooks
that look strokes me and makes my glad heart beat
gallop of my horse take me over that grace
dancing alone among the ancient trees
The land is veiled by misty haze in cold mornings - mornings of the fall
only proud mountains mighty stands and watch the grace there down all around
sun beats out the way and breathe in new day into my pale face
I will fly up to the cloads in the highs on the magic eagle´s wings... now!
White snow is like a mirror
under the touch of sunshine rays
falling snowflakes tickles my nose
in the cold winter´s days
Mother earth, as you born me in the spring
so adopt my soul now at the end of times
wind of freedom blows... my last dreaming...
in singing of the birds, sounds lullaby of mine...
💬 Komentáre
Komentáre budú implementované v ďalšej verzii.