With neatly terraced lawns
And grey old walls of rock
Children play
As trees do sway
In their mossy-colored socks.
The waterfalls of green
Forever flow and roar.
Glowing mornings
And mid-day stormings
On Machu Picchu's shore.
These islanders are blessed
To live so far away
From bumbling strife
Of city life
And on their island play.
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