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My native soil's Serugium,
Where flows the stream of happiness.
The produce there of high esteem:
The mart of plenty justly nam'd.
The waters exquisitely sweet:
Liek those that spring from paradise.
The deserts to the eye appear,
Like verdant meadows beautiful.
Th'inhabitants and houses shine,
Like stars and starry mansions bright.
The air they breath delicious smells:
The prospect pleasing, large and wide.
The higest hills are strew'd with flow'rs,
When once the sun dissolves the snow.
Visit Serugium - you'll see
The feat of this world's paradise. (en) |
