Thank you ,Jolly , for letting me discover the beautiful words again.
You think you own whatever land,you land on.
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim,
but I know every rock and tree and creature ,has a life has a spirit has a name.
You think the only people who are people,
are people who look and think like you,
but if you walk the foot-steps of a stranger,
you learn the things you never know you never know...
Have you ever hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon,
or ask the bringing Balkan why he brings,
have you sing with all the voices of the mountain,
can you paint with all the colors of the wind
can you paint with all the colors of the wind
Come wonder hidden kindnes of the forrest (the forrest)
come taste the sun sweet barries of the earth (of the earth)
come rolling all the ridges all around you (all around you)
and for ones never wonder what there where.
Rainstorms and the river are my brother,
the heran and the adder are my friend,
and we are all connected to each other,
in a circle of a hope that never ends.
Have you ever hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon,
or let the eagle tell you where his bin,
can you sing with all the voices of the mountain,
can you paint with all the colors of the wind
can you paint with all the colors of the wind
How high does the sickle moon grow,
if you cut it down ,then you never know when....
You never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon,
for weather you we're white or copper skin,
we need to sing with all the voices of the mountain,
we need to paint with all the colors of the wind,
you can only earth and still
ow you only sercomtale,
you can paint with all the colors of te wind.
