Over that hill, there is a meadow,
It’s a dream, and that, I do know.
You’re here, and I’m here, holding hands,
Faraway from the world, this strange land.
Riding on horseback, in the sunset,
Through the tall grass wavering,
Lightly in the breeze…
It’s a dream, it’s a dream,
To whom do I tell this?
My life woven around it…
Like and intricate sculpture of art.
It was once a memory too,
You and me, riding together,
Through those summer fields of wheat.
Running and falling, climbing the hills;
Destiny had woven us with its eternal magic
On the loom of time, to be together forever…
Then you were gone, and gone, and gone,
A hundred and twice centuries have passed,
And my abyss has been cold as death,
Life’s a distant memory – my sun hasn’t dawned.
It’s just these dreams, subconscious,
Filtering through ice-cold water,
Like little bubbles of hope escaping,
Broadens up the light overhead.
In this dream, today, I dream of you,
You’re here, and I’m here, holding hands…
And we’re here this moment and till eternity,
When you’ll come back, will I wake up.
Otherwise I’ll never have let you go.