I have chosen a hill very solemn and tall,
To shelter me.
I have chosen a home very humble and small,
Where I would be.
I have chosen a wind very fragrant and gay,
To kiss my mouth.
I have chosen a view, stretching ever away,
When I look south.
I have chosen a glow that the sunlight shall bring
When morning calls.
I have chosen a choir of the thrushes to sing
When twilight falls.
I have chosen a shrine where my spirit may pray.
Blessing its birth.
I have chosen a breast where my head I can lay,
Sweet Mother Earth !
