Dzö-nga - Upon the Shimmered Bough

Behold, my child, the glistening ice upon the shimmered bough
and wind that slips betwixt the trees with melancholy sigh
A land that once caressed your cheek and carved your weathered brow
whose hounds of winter, years from now, will call you to their cry

Come hither now and lay your gaze upon a stream bestilled
that deep within flows, even through the winter's coldest day
And carry with you all that you have seen throughout the years
for every step that you forget will lead you more astray

Be soft, my child, and sing to those whose spirits wander yet
these snowy hills, and haunt in silent solitude the reave
In lands where time has come to rest in sempiternal bliss
Which mind and body may forsake but souls shall never leave