Through the old forsaken mist,
Past the old crumbling wall,
Lies a past not soon forgotten,
Through love and hate,
It has overcome all.
The slight wind,
A brush from the past,
A steady stream,
Carving the land,
The old kingdom stands tall.
The moving prairie,
The song of the trees,
The whisper of the wind,
The scream of the falls,
A love not forgotten.
The old kingdom,
Strong as can be,
Shall live in us,
Through the sounds,
And the sights.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem