A river of time, it marks our life
From birth to death, there is no rhyme
A chance to meet, along the way
Will we go or, will we stay?
There is no sound of, tolling bells
The task on earth is living well
I dreamt my grandma, held my hand
Felt the stranger, in this land
Her ancient voice called, out to me
And have your choices, plain to see

INVIA LE CORREZIONI