Listen to the track:
These words are written in my heart of heart,
Not by skill alone but by a lucky spark.
That flash of truth that outshines art,
That burns my choir and lights the dark.
Some who came before,
And some still yet to follow,
Sing themselves into being,
Like spirits of hill and hollow.
In the rush of city streets,
In the murmuring sound of rivers,
Where summer stars scorch the leaves,
Like spears of light that shimmer.
Some who came before,
And some still yet to follow,
Sing themselves into being,
Like spirits of hill and hollow.
Where trees themselves are books,
And rainfall beads the day,
The poet reads in quiet nooks,
Then night fades away.
And even as they fade and fall,
They rise again at morning’s call.
Some who came before,
And some still yet to follow,
Sing themselves into being,
Like spirits of hill and hollow.
These words were written in my heart of heart,
These words were written in my heart of heart,
These words were written in my heart of heart,
These words were written in my heart of heart.