Julia
Wherever your voice is heard,
And your face has been seen,
A song arises from the mountains
Of Ireland, a proud and fairytale land,
Where you once played as a child,
Surrounded by old trees and stories,
Your soul has got its roots
In sacred castles and woods,
where greenred colours paint
your changing extravagant moods,
where you feel connected with the history
of the redbearded celts,
the country of music and songs,
where the beer flows as milk.
And your face has been seen,
A song arises from the mountains
Of Ireland, a proud and fairytale land,
Where you once played as a child,
Surrounded by old trees and stories,
Your soul has got its roots
In sacred castles and woods,
where greenred colours paint
your changing extravagant moods,
where you feel connected with the history
of the redbearded celts,
the country of music and songs,
where the beer flows as milk.
Reacties op dit gedicht
| switi lobi: | Donderdag, mei 18, 2006 16:46 |
| Prachtig gedicht over een prachtig land... Liefsliefs, switi lobi |
|
| QueenBee: | Donderdag, mei 18, 2006 16:04 |
| Mooi... | |
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Tatjana De Casparis | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: Innerchild | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 18 mei 2006 | ||
| Thema's: | ||