There on a barren landscape formed from stone
A bitter wind did blow, yet warmed my heart.
Off on the crashing waves my thoughts did start,
Realising then I was not alone.
A thousand ghostly hands did hold me fast
And hoary rock rose glowed beside my feet.
Content to know my roots, my fathers’ beat,
A lulling affinity with the past.
Oh hold me there forever in my home,
So rich, so green, so living, pulsing still
And in the sea, the valleys or the hills
I’m called by the mother, maiden and crone.
Sweet fertile land who will laugh, cry and groan,
You have passed me life and are my own.