| A silent lake under eagle’s wings reflecting sky and mountains high
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| Its waters hide some mystery
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| A plate of stone, discovered trace, leads back to unknown days
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| See a witness in every pile of stones
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| Every place where they are standing in circles
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| Silent witness to the past, to times of old belief
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| When spirits reigned in the mountains alone
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| Still so many secrets and so many tales untold remain
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| Their life so different to ours
|
| Though the place we live is the same
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| So close to nature powers
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| A land that no one could tame
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| Where the sacred spring creates a place benign
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| You feel fine, perceiving the ghosts of the old days
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| Still so many secrets and so many tales untold remain
|
| Their life so different to ours
|
| Though the place we live is the same
|
| So close to nature powers
|
| A land that no one could tame
|
| Still so many secrets and so many tales untold remain
|
| Knowing the threats in a world of regrets
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| By the soothing of spirits they try
|
| Keep the white death away saving harvest and hay
|
| Let the tempest of demons pass by
|
| Their life so different to ours
|
| Though the place we live is the same
|
| So close to nature powers
|
| A land that no one could tame
|
| Knowing the threats in a world of regrets
|
| By the soothing of spirits they try
|
| Keep the white death away saving harvest and hay
|
| Let the tempest of demons pass by
|
| Their life so different to ours
|
| Though the place we live is the same
|
| So close to nature powers
|
| A land that no one could tame |