The limpid water of upland brooks is Falling down from rocks into the lakes And the look to the green valleys of virgin nature delights my spirit Springy meadows are coloured by Thousands of flowers and flying butterflies I smell the flavoured air and the wind is dishevelling my hair The lowlands and hilld, my rivers and brooks That lok strokes me and makes my glad heart beat The gallop of my horse take me over that grace I'm dancing along among the ancient trees The land is veiled by misty haze in Cold mornings – morning of the fall Only proud mountains mighty stands and Watch that grace there down all around The sun beats out the way and breathe in new day into my pale face I will fly up to the cloads in the Highs on the magic eagle's wings... now! White snow is like a mirror Under the touch of sunshines pays The falling snowflakes tickles my nose In the cold winter's day Mother Earth, as you borned me in the spring So adopt my soul now at the end of times The wind of freedom blows... my last dreaming... In singing of the birds, sounds lullaby of mine