A house made of glass
That belongs to times past.
Dreaming in the sunshine
In a world now paced rather fast.
The sun, however, rises
Just as it used to do
When people from other shores
Walked around and watched the view.
Twice a year, it gets filled
With an array of dazzling flowers.
But it looks just as beautiful
In its peaceful, empty hours.
Oh, house of glass, lying beneath
A bluu, cloud-mottled sky…
You were a jewel before we were born;
You’ll be a gem after we die.
