I choose a path
where vast hills roll with my thoughts.
Some call this path I take 'straight.'
It is as straight as hills
viewed from the side.
My friends can try
to shape these hills,
but such hills will not
be shaped by man.
These hills fight
the lone fight they know.
They give me hope
that strength can hold out.
(They give me pause
and let me think.)
The way of these hills
is the way of God:
They are made to be seen
but not forced to fit our way of sight.
Much like how
a guide knows the path,
but can't walk it for you,
These hills give me the strength
to walk a way I have yet to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
put your faith in the hills; more honest than any man. keep on SusxGLx