When I was young in the mountains, I’d climb so high I could see, to the south an endless train, to the north, Cantabric Sea…
I dreamt of crossing that ocean that to the west shone so bright,
and one day I did set sail to my outrageous delight.
With little more than a dollar, within my pockets I brought,
because I packed my strength and my knowledge, and energy that marked my youth.
And I saw land there before me, Manhattan waiting for me,
and one huge statue that held her torch, so bright for all eyes to see.
In years and fully adapted to those American ways, I joined her army and fought to keep out the communists filled with hate.
And now I sit and I wonder, how pure were those simple times,
And in my mountains again…
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