May I never forget the fields of corn waving gold
to the setting sun.
May I never forget the mountain from which seven
rivers run.
May I never forget the Preirie sky or the surf of
the tropical sea.
May I never forget my true home that you've gone
to prepare for me.
May I never forget the primal green where the Amazon's
waters flow.
May I never forget the icy wind on some empty Mongolian
plateau.
May I never forget the northern lights where the
caribou run free.
May I never forget my true home that you've gone
to prepare for me.
If I forget my home, may my right hand wither and
die;
Let me remember you, or let my tongue turn dusty
and dry.
While all my wealth is food for moths, all my riches
are decay,
May my true treasures be with you. Let no one take
them away.
May I never forget my father's voice or my mother's
loving embrace,
or the friends I have met laong my way (though I
may not recall every face).
May I never forget that all my joy is a shadow of
joy that will be.
May I never forget my true home that you've gone
to prepare for me.
Marco Klaue, ©2002
<- back
