(to “Rose of Tralee”)
Dark canyons around me, the wild waters streaming,
Around me blue mountains like mountains in dreams,
Around me a valley like Eden in springtime.
Around, all is beauty — I hear the world sing!
I hear the green valley, the blue hills are calling,
I hear the green pastures with bright sparkling rills
I hear the great mountain, the wild waters flowing
To orchards and vineyards below the blue hills.
Like snowflakes in winter, the white petals falling,
The cranes circle upward — wings flash in the blue.
From high in their heaven — wild, free, and haunting,
They call to the valley — they’re calling to you:
“Come back to the valley, the blue hills are calling,
Come back to green pastures and bright sparkling rills.
Come back to the mountain, the wild waters foaming,
Come home to the valley — come home to the hills!”
