There is a land so far away it seems,
Only heard from the tide of winds
Never did a man land a step on its sandy beach
Never did a sailor saw the green behind his lens
You heard it mutterd by the redwings 0n their autumn trips
Or sung by the whales at the dawn of their yearly winter breaks.
A land of the parakeets, of the sparrows and their multitudes,
A land for the pure-hearted, without sin, and not a rude.
Some call it paradise some call it bliss
The youth of fountain can be heard there trickle on its peaceful creek.
Poor Juan Ponce risk his life and never found his way
He was way too far, more than a thousand seas away.
Close your eyes, feel and listen with your leery sense
Can you feel the sound right underneath your skin?
It's a song that's beating ever since within
A song to the land, your heart is leading.
But man is today never cease toiling,
Not a single time to pray not a steady tranquil morning.
Halted by his labor by his greed and his fear,
He stop believing that there's a land over there.
Wake up man! wake up quick!
Listen to your heart cease your evil self inflict.
This world is sick and the end is very near
Listen to your heart, the Land is over there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem