  I have chosen a hill very solemn and tall, To shelter me. I have chosen a home very humble and small, Where I would be. I have chosen a wind very fragrant and gay, To kiss my mouth. I have chosen a view, stretching ever away, When I look south. I have chosen a glow that the sunlight shall bring When morning calls. I have chosen a choir of the thrushes to sing When twilight falls. I have chosen a shrine where my spirit may pray, Blessing its birth. I have chosen a breast where my head I can lay, Sweet Mother Earth! |
|
