America (Remove filter)
Exile
My dear homeland, with fields so wide
And rivers that carve through vast, silent tide
On green hills where the calm winds flow
I left my heart in your soil below
Where wheat grows tall, and autumn turns gold
I, far from you, in the cold snow unfold
The distant peaks, where bears are hunted still
Sing in the breeze, a sweet, wistful thrill
Oh, my homeland, why did I leave thee?
With fo...
Thursday 21st November 2024 4:06 am
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