Your kind in this lovely island;
Guardians of the hills, rivers and seas, fields and trees.
Or just send Ceres with a golden wand. ~
Daedalus, would you come over? Icarus your son
Is gone, you need a home now, a homestead.
The Labyrinth you made is no longer in your hand,
And your fearful king too, is dead.
Here you live in peace, myth is no myth. It's real.
People are not soldiers or slaves
They are free, and living is an art. It is not surreal.
Living a culture Nature enclaves.
And mighty Thor, would you send the friendly bolt?
Pierce the cloud and send the rain.
Fix the air in divine alchemy to nourish the land,
Send the breeze in melodious strain.
But don't send the tempest from the Eastern sea.
We have enough in monsoon,
And learned to live strong in prayer and piety,
With our young growing up too soon.
Make our island the golden Greece with our deities,
Your kind in this lovely island;
Guardians of the hills, rivers and seas, fields and trees.
Or just send Ceres with a golden wand. ~
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