Eternal Echo

There is no meadow here, there is no tree here. I am alone, it is evening twilight at the sunset of a foreign land. There is no house here, no street, not even a lamp on the road. It is evening twilight, I am alone at the sunset of a foreign land. On the steep edge of the ravine, I am running in terror. My trembling foot slips: - ah! a fall? ... You search for the echo of a voice that is calling you: with all its cry ...