The Green Hills of Earth
Back to Contents
This is meant to be sung to a melody derived from the fourth movement of Brahms' First Symphony.
The cold lightyears I wander throughout interstellar space,
yet my heart's ever yearning for one very special place.
Whatever wonders beckon, despite all that I should see,
the green hills of Earth will always mean home to me.
Our beautiful world, dressed richly in life, will always be loved and cherished.
Humanity's home never shall be forgot 'til the last human has perished.
My soul has been imprinted from the first moment of my birth,
so ever in my mind's eye I see the clear and blue sky,
the rivers and the meadows of the sweet green hills of Earth.
They say we all grow fonder when absent from what we love,
so we love Earth all the more when we go to the stars above.
Enduring desolation and air and water's dearth,
we appreciate the better the sweet green hills of Earth.
Like Medieval knights, we chasten ourselves, and forbear to take the pleasure.
The means is transformed, to an end in itself, a stranger kind of treasure.
So we know that if we're to savor the fulness of its worth,
we must never set our feet on, never rest our eyes on,
the soft and sacred soil of the sweet green hills of Earth.
Mutation and selection have worked Evolution's gains
and raised our human race up from Africa's grassy plains.
The challenge of an ice age selected what we would be;
tool makers who would travel as far as their eyes could see.
Beyond Mother Earth, we float in the Void and plunge into contemplation.
From a distance we gain, in a proper context, a deeper appreciation
of the strange and sacred blessing that the Old One unasked gave
unto our young, untried race, through cold Štherial grace,
a small world for a cradle and a galaxy for a grave.
Back to Contents