Pastures of Memories

Pastures of memories, Sifting through life's mysteries, Golden cows and butterflies, All on a summer's day. Once I was so young and free, Climbing an old apple tree; Thinking it so very high That I could touch the sky. But now that sky is growing dim, The shadows stretch to clo-se me in; So here's to darkness and despair, I know of a field somewhere, And on my back there I'll lie And watch the clouds drift by. Midnight on a rocky shore, We sang above the wild waves roar, Trees so black against the sky, We could hear the night birds cry.

Pastures of Memories Golden Cows and Butterflies by Dahlov Ipcar ©1962

Love was young and songs were old,
A time for shy ones to be bold,
To gaze into another eyes
And only see the dawn.

Though now that sun is sinking low,
The love that's left still reflects its glow,
It's better to have loved and lost,
Then never to have risked the cost,
But better yet to try anew,
And fall in love again.

Another time in a land so fair,
With sacred groves in mountain air,
I'd ride my horse down a village green,
Round houses lined each side.

Where the Thunder God still reigned supreme,
And people danced upon the green;
They offered gifts to the temple priest,
And drank their honey wine.

But now, where have the Old Gods gone?
Do the sacred groves still ring with chants and song?
Perhaps, I'll journey once again,
Listen in the evening wind,
And pour a horn of honey wine
At the foot of some old tree.

Waves of time drift slowly by,
Now I'm sailing with the tide,
Through misty islands in the morn,
I keep a sharp lookout.

But that pirate ship of yesterday,
Now she lies beneath the waves,
Her timbers buried in the mud,
Where can her captain be?

Now, our time is drawing near,
The farthest shore is becoming clear;
So trim the sail, make fast the sheet,
We've old friends we'd like to meet;
They'll welcome us upon the shore,
And join us in this song.

Pastures of memories,
Sifting through life's mysteries,
Golden cows and butterflies,
All on a summer's day