A tremor hijacks my heart,
When I behold this art
Of green and a shade lighter
That nature turns when it’s better
In this kingdom of great and small,
Where needs the light?
When night never comes?

A happy feeling, some say a joy.
Which fills in just by a glance
No sorrows lie in paradise
See? No cannibals, no monsters
For all hearts feel the simmering shine
How cruel it would be
To curse such land, to make it bare?

Pity the blind man, the deaf that speaks
Who falls and follows destruction
Who cuts life and furnishes stones
And never hears the cries of a dying life
Let miracles happen, their eyes open
Let them whimper with the trees and sweat with the rocks