. Beyond the massif peaks of Europa, Above the ancient pillars of Heracles Where rain and ocean are weaving, Lays a fabled kingdom born of waves And noble strands, my beaten hearts Haunting, the lost, lush sylvan lands Of Galicia. Where Incomparable, dark Haired women, mythic, of Amazonian Fairness, side the valleys and moors Of soon forgotten dreams and secretive Wolves slide amongst warmed runnings Of the ram and moans of ewe, where Way bountiful seas are over spilling, In octopus and pearly gemmed shells, The scalloped pilgrimages unfolding, Where incense burns with under stars Encased, the lost Atlantean temples Of Egyptian sands and storied Gaels, The clad forests of wandering Titans,
Where snow white beaches end forever Unmapped in told footsteps, castaway, As was the magi gift of treasured yards, Enlightenments, of old and golden isles Pearling the coasts, sailing the sweet airs Crossing Iberian gates, to Elysian, eternal, Galicia.