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  • Highland morning

  • Martina Bedregal Calderón
    Martina Bedregal Calderón Highland morning
    Morning mists on the barren land,
    As the sun touches moors and rivers;
    A golden light where the birch trees grow
    And the colourful heather shivers.

    A winding path leads anywhere,
    A singing wind fills the shadows.
    And the rain caresses with sweetness and care
    The trembling grass of the meadows.

    Some of the roads lead down and down,
    But follow the roads that climb,
    For they´ll fill your soul with joy forever,
    From now to the end of time.
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