There is a place that I remember well
though never have I seen its setting sun,
nor have I walked its streets of gold
or listened to a bird sing up above.
And yet I know its rivers run so clear,
I hear its babbling brooks and rustling leaves.
I feel its winter snow caress my cheek
as softly as the kiss true lovers seek.
My heart beats in the rhythm of the breeze
that gently flutters from a swallow’s wings,
and in my mind a summer has begun.
There is a place that I remember well
though never have I seen its setting sun.
But it is there, each time I close my eyes
and listen as the day is put to rest.
And one day I will find the way, I know
to memory of sweet and endless night.