South, we walking south
I said, when we past the last
Birds still flying over our heads
And the world still rest
But I just needed to let you know
That it was time to face
The land of sand
Where the desert roses grow
We past the bed of flowers
In the grasslands of the ancient ruin
We past the flood of hope
In the river lands of the ancient ruin
South, to the Deep South
To the land of the sounds
To the lord of her elementals
Of sun, of the druid
Focus
Maybe you will be there soon
Maybe you will be there soon
In the land of the eleven sands
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem