Where do you think that wood's coming from?
The Earth.
Where do you think your metal grows?
Where do you think those things owned are
The Earth;
and it shows!
Hold on to what you matter
Hold on to what's been given
Hold on to your revolving
what life's been left to livin'
Rare as a child fed given
Rare as man's work hard
Baring a stake to driven
Home for a heart blessed
ridden
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem