In the whisper of the ancient winds,
Echoes of the past softly sing,
Stories of the earth’s first kin,
Guardians of the land’s sacred ring.

Beneath the canopy of wise old trees,
Voices of ancestors gently stir,
Within the rivers that run with ease,
Their spirit flows, a constant murmur.

Drumbeats resonate with the heart,
In rhythms of life, they find their place,
Traditions woven, never to part,
In every line, a timeless trace.

Their wisdom etched in the mountain’s face,
A legacy of harmony and grace,
The world held in their gentle embrace,
In unity with nature’s pace.