Blue are the hills that are far away
Far is the blue in the evening sky,
and loud are the hills with your calling voice,
the sky and the wide open spaces below
are bird-strung and sounding with distant blue.
I remember the sky and the waves of the sea,
pounding the cliffs and the salt white spray,
and the fields with their stone walls, a mesh of hopes,
your voices I hear in the blue of my heart.
Close is the blood that throbs in the ears
and holds in its arms a lover, a child,
the last fire burning, the spire of pearl smoke,
and blue are the hills that are far away.