Hills were beckoning Woods were summoning An idea prevailed If I would proceed I may find my solitary reaper I may find my own daffodils To give me eternal joy. Heart inspired, passion fired To search for my nightingale To soothe my senses with cuckoo’s wail I went to bow in front of hills Oh! My heart ached To see hills are dying Hills are sighing Gone are daffodils Gone are reapers Hills are crying And only crying To give me eternal sorrow. Forests are cleared Concrete jungles are cheered Flora and fauna are vanishing Plastic is reigning Oh! Grip of cancer is threatening Man’s life span is waning. Give your ear for Hills are crying. Hills are crying.