Trekking on the other side of the world
Met a young Nepalese, his head shaven bald
I asked why he shaved his head like mine
He said of old age this was passed down the line
His mother had just been deceased
In respect; though only her memory his sorrows eased
Though she had always cared for him
Her death had awaken him from a dream
That time is an eternal stream
Sooner or late will pass the brim
That his mother's death made him aware
Of his mortality and value of love and care
And now his own sorrows he would ease
Her beautiful memories him could please.
Gathered around the table later that night
Guides and trekkers surrounding the kerosene light
Chatting, socializing in chaotic communion
The singers, a guitar and a harmonium
He was playing both the harmonium and the guitar
Everyone having a try, a few bar
What a party, interesting, eclectic
Israeli, German, American and Celtic
In a glance I saw here and there
People experience the same emotions everywhere
Nepalese, Canadian, Italian
Young and old, gentile and jew, man and woman.
Death of parent brings sorrow
Sweet memories sooth the morrow
Song and music join forever
All the people laugh together
Human nature around the world
Same language unspoken told
Each of us break the hold
Through emotions melt the cold
So in this historic fold
Break the old, anew remold.