The Voice of Nations and Generations
The mountains across India
They speak loud and vast
The prairies among America
Talk with words that last;
The flowers that bloom
In the late Irish snow
Sing just as loud
As the valley grass below.
A brook whispers softly
To all that bother to hear.
She speaks not only to man,
But also tiger and deer.
From glaciers to deserts
They all speak in tongues
Not just to the known
But also the unsungs
Waves break against the coast
The sand is pulled away
The moon looks the same
To all at the end of each day
Why separate black and white
The young and the old
We all can hear her voice
And the marvelous stories she's told
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