Letras
In the quiet woods where the pines grow tall,
I hear a song so faint and small,
The breeze weaves through each needled limb,
With a gentle voice, soft and slim.
Oh, whispering pines, tell me your tale,
Of ancient times and mountain trails,
With roots so deep and branches wide,
You hold the earth and touch the sky.
Mossy paths where sunlight fades,
Hidden glades and secret shades,
I walk in awe, beneath their green,
In the forest's hush, so serene.
Oh, whispering pines, tell me your tale,
Of ancient times and mountain trails,
With roots so deep and branches wide,
You hold the earth and touch the sky.
Every rustle, a story told,
Of winter's bite and autumn's gold,
Through storms endured, through skies so clear,
They stand as guardians year by year.
As dusk descends with its twilight grace,
The pines embrace this sacred space,
In shadows long, they seem to sway,
Guiding me along my way.
Oh, whispering pines, tell me your tale,
Of ancient times and mountain trails,
With roots so deep and branches wide,
You hold the earth and touch the sky.
And when I leave, I'll carry home,
The song of pines where I have roamed,
For in their whispers, wild and free,
I've found a part of eternity.