i was sitting in a stadion bar,somewhere in america
when an old man came to me he asked:"can i sit next to you"?,
and i had nothing else to doso he sat down and drank his beer.
he told me'bout the rocks and hills,
about the antumn and its chill
about the valleys and the rain
and then he spoke of former times,about his children and his wifeand about what yet remained
suddenly he said: "my son,
do you know the land,where i've come from
and he asked
do you know the land of green
its rough and stormy sea
do you know the island of the rain,
do you know the land of green,
its wonderfrous scenery
do you know the island of the rain
many of us had left their homes,
never felt the westwind blow againhe said with lonely eyes
the once had worked upon the land,
that now is in some stranges's hands
he said with angry eyes
the more he spoke, the more he drank,
the more th kept
on telling'bout his land and he said
do you know the land of green....
even though the bar was full of noise,
the man began to lower his voiceand stood up without a wordaltough it is five years ago i swear
that i exactly knowevery word that he had said
i still can see his trembling hands,
as he told the story'bout his land
do you know the land of green.............
