In the whispers of ancient trees,
Stories of old begin to weave,
A tapestry of time that flees,
Yet in our hearts, they never leave.
The melodies of distant lands,
Echo through the silent night,
In every grain of desert sands,
A heritage of endless light.
Through the stones of ancient halls,
The voices of our ancestors sing,
In every shadow, history calls,
A reminder of the gifts they bring.
From the mountains to the seas,
Our culture dances in the breeze,
In every soul it finds release,
A legacy that never cease.