The years have come and gone,
Time ticks and days are borne,
Yet is my paradise lost,
Yet are my rivers poisoned,
Yet is my air poisoned.
Where is my green field?
Where is the call of shadows?
Where is the semblance of morn?
Where is the beauty of twilight?
What have we done to nature's nest?
The hung gardens are weeping,
Nature's tapestry stealthily glides away,
The music of the woods fades,
The drum beats descend,
In obedience to man and metal.
Behold the tears of the flora
The tears of the fauna,
Beckoning on brutish tools,
Wielded by kind hands,
What a benevolence!