There along the far western shore,
A country at the center of the world.
Green mountains peek from behind the clouds,
Roaring waterfalls thundering loud.
The central highlands form the lofty spine,
Switch-back roads with no rails to guard.
Quiet sounds of exotic birds calling,
Soft soothing rain on the flowers falling.
The old town streets flow with life at night,
People say to me, “Buenas noches, Señor!”
Thin stray dogs with heads hanging low,
In the shadow of the sleeping volcano.
A sad woman in white by the church door,
Brilliant blue butterflies dance in her hair.
Hair as black as a dark Mindo night,
She prayed for me in the warm moonlight.
But with regret to this day, I walked away,
I left her there, alone in the square,
There along the far western shore,
Beneath the cloud forest of Ecuador.