The Echo Song

In a mountain pass, where the rocks for the winds are no checkers (no checkers),
Where no one has ever set foot, so steep is the rise (so steep is the rise),
There once lived a jubilant, cheerful mountain echo,
It answered all calls, and replied to the cries, human cries.

When loneliness suddenly fills our heart with despair (with despair),
And when a low sound of pain down the cliff starts to land (starts to land),
The echo, adroitly, will pick up the call,And handling with care,
Will lift it, and louder, with tenderness take it in hand.

But some scoundrels, madmen and drunkards, got round (got round),
So that no one might hear the footfall and snort (footfall and snort),
Intending to silence and murder the gorge, living canyon
They bound up the echo, and stopped up its mouth ere they shot.

And so it went on, their bloody, ferocious, enraged merrymaking
No sound could be heard as they trampled the echo, made fun of it, mocked...
They shot, in the morning, the quieted mountain echo (mountain echo)
And tears gushed out like stones from the wounds of the rock...

And tears gushed out like stones from the wounds of the rock...
And tears gushed out like stones from the wounds of the rock...

🗿💦