Your gods are not mine,
In your land, rocks seem alive,
Trees seem to speak,
Deer run wild,
Wolves and bears prowl,
The people are free,
The palaces of my ancestors make me dream of former glory,
Just as I long for the days you were with me,
Your words are not mine,
In your tongue, there must be no way to say "jealousy,"
Could I say that I love you?
Or would that make you feel
As though you were in captivity?
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