Late one night on Hippie Hill
I got around to smoke my fill
The war was largely over then
And I was young, but then again.
The bones of five years come and gone
{The city wanted back its lawns)
The fire bases burning out
The ashes blowing round about.
The wine was old and deep and dark
An otherwise deserted park
That whispered late one night to me,
It's still about our liberty.
My brothers dead, too soon, and all
But just before the dying fall
Let there be peace until we will
All meet again on Hippie Hill.
I am not afraid to die
On Hippie Hill, I will not deny.
Fly across the land, I'm free.
Scatter my ashes out to sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem