In the heart of ancient lands we tread,
Where whispers of the past are softly spread.
Each stone and tree a story to be told,
Of heroes brave and customs bold.

The tapestry of time, woven with care,
By hands long gone, in the fragrant air.
Traditions passed from old to new,
In every ritual, the past renews.

In every song, a history lives,
Through every dance, the spirit gives.
The heritage of countless years,
In laughter, joy, and sometimes tears.

So let us honor those who came before,
Their legacy we do adore.
For in their footsteps, we find our way,
And through their heritage, find our stay.