My Country, My Dead Bed

My Country, My Dead Bed

The prayer flags shake in the mountain wind, 
Like tears falling down from a cloudy sky. 
The old ways are fading, leaving us behind, 
And the ancient pine trees softly sigh. 
The dragon protects us with all his might, 
But a quiet sadness fills the night.

A beautiful land of green and clean air, 
Where the rivers run pure and the forests grow, 
Yet many young people feel deep despair, 
And down the long roads, they choose to go. 
They pack up their bags and travel away, 
Leaving their parents with no words to say.

The big rivers flow to create electric power, 
A bright, modern promise for everyone's sake, 
But under the peaks in the quiet hour, 
The lonely valleys begin to ache. 
The machines keep humming a heavy sound, 
While a cold, lonely silence wraps around.

They look at their screens for a better life, 
To help the families they leave behind, 
But the empty villages feel the strife, 
When only the elders are left to find. 
Our kingdom is beautiful, noble, and grand, 
But it weeps for the children who leave the land.

A peaceful cradle of ice and snow, 
Where time stands still and traditions stay. 
I walk these paths where the cold winds blow, 
And pray that the sorrow will go away. 
I love this soil, its beauty is my breath 
I will fade one day, its my bed.