Amidst yon verdant vale where breezes sigh,
There lies a sight that doth the heart enthrall,
A cascade fair, where waters swiftly fly,
And from the craggy cliffs, they heed the call.
In ancient tongue, the stream doth loudly sing,
Its frothy waves, a dance upon the air,
With thunderous roar, its praises loudly ring,
As down the rocky slopes, it doth declare.
O'er mossy stones, the waters deftly glide,
In shimmering cascade, a liquid veil,
Enraptured souls upon its banks abide,
To witness nature's glory, ne'er to pale.
Thus, in the tongue of old, we sing its praise,
The waterfall, in timeless, ancient ways.
