I could take a city bird
release it in the valley
feel free again by watching it
fly up and down, rejoicing.
In Yorkshire, I could do this
and myself is here in Yorkshire.
But then: I hear the voices of a thousand blooming lilies,
backyard weeds with purple buds
and dandelions we spared in spring.
They're calling me by name
I hear them wishing me my spirit
saying bye, good-bye, remember us
good-bye, good-bye, you're leaving us
how many times you've thought of us
up in those Yorkshire hills.