Orchard of the Altapass (62.40-66.19)

Orchard of the altapass
Carry me gently, let this last
Down a sinuous mountain road
Speaking to new parts of a land we know
Overhearing a deep sigh
Of an old world as it dies
Caught up in mourning the setting sun
As some are rejoicing a day begun
Orchard of the altapass
A creaking of old limbs
What's done is past



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