Oh rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer's day,

Upon your head how golden-red the crown you bore aloft!




Beneath a roof of sleeping leaves, the dreams of trees unfold.

When the wooden halls are green and cool, and the wind is on the west,

Come back to me. Come back to me, and say my land is best. 

(J.R.R.Tolkien- Bárbol Song)









My oldest home is calling