Home in the Mountains

(Written in Alcaic meter, favorite of Horace, and thoughts drawn abundantly from the traditional song "Rank Strangers". For an interpretation of the rhythm of Alcaic meter, see the graphic below.)

I love the country, you love the city life.
You hear the pigeons, I hear the turtle doves.
We once were children in the school yard.
Now we are busy as we can manage.

The sun will rise today on my mountain home.
Once more I wander, tall as the trees have grown.
Where are the old folks gone away to?
Voices of strangers tell me nothing.

By crystal oceans, bright in tranquility.
They're gone from their old posts, to the shining sea.
So when you ask where have they gone to,
That other shore far away from nowhere.