Disappearing cultures in the Bega Valley – Mora Fiedler

The glistening full moon lights up my face,
I have not intended to stay the night,
But the dignified beauty of this place,
Has captured my heart and my heart I must fight.

The morning sun has risen high,
Mother Nature’s curtain extends across Bega,
The birds heed her order and take to the sky,
All animals stand, they rise their heads eager.

I go to town on a mission, a quest,
I have searched for my language but failed in anguish,
I must leave now to mourn and rest,
Disappearing are our cultures, some they banish!