and left us too, the moon they followed out the Host of Hosts
And she lays in the road, and in the road, she lays, she lays the stones. A stone on stone. A stone on stone. Her piles, to dwellings. Her heaps, to homes.
She is a daughter of the mountains She is a mother of strength She is a bride of the heavens She is a forest of the cedars She is renewal like the waves She sounds of booms like the ocean She bounds through hills, like gazelles She weaves wildlowers leaping She lays down the road
Her back begins to curl, spine finds the mountain curve, and she can feel within
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