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Ancient clime beneath unsettled skies

Old face weathered by many a gale

Stunted pines bowed down with grief

Forlorn willows weep and mourn

In unkempt heathlands, harsh and sere

Weeds mildly shiver in death throes

Thy oaks and beeches stood the test of time

Thy sleepy meadows braved each flood

Enchained by ice, the stream and brook

Hoping for spring's reviving look

Weary eyes seen seasons change

Seen sowing, reaping, lying fallow

Alas! Old mother, gray and weak

Each lived through battle, left its trace

Thy once splendid house in ruins

Thy offspring scattered in the winds

With teary eyes I'm gazing back

In foreign lands I pine for you

Thou art my heart, thou art my bones

Wherever I may go

I stand humble before thy gates

And long to walk those cobbled streets

Lose myself in thy half-timbered maze

For thou I yearn

I dream of sand and rivers deep

Ghastly graves of stone and moss

Of sun-bathed fields and shady groves

I can't forget

So I swear to you I will return

To where I once descended from

Lay down my head and find my peace

I will come home