Select language to translate this lyric
These early hikes put me on intimate terms with the hills.
I discovered many of their secrets.
I learned that they were always clothed in garments of delicate hues.
Though they seemed to be barren,
They teen with life and had many moods.
Steep rock and water falling,
Birds in the timber calling,
Mountain still as sand,
Magic of the rising sun.
In the morning,
I've got no time to spend on,
Things that I can't depend on,
Everything is always as I know it ought to be.
In the mountains,
La, la, la {yodeling}
Gold in the aspen burning,
Sign of the season turning,
Soon the powder snow will deck the mountain sides again,
In the winter,
That is the time I break away through the hills and
Take a long quiet trail through the stillness of the snow,
Singing,
La, la, la {yodeling}
Then from a mountain top,
On old battered skis I drop on down through
The deep powder, winding through the glades,
To the woodland,
Snow covered furs are handsome, fill me with wonder and some
Wild mountain madness to the hills,
And they answer,
La, la, la {yodeling}