In mystic lands far-Far East Tropic of Cancer mapped.
Where wind swirls sea like rising yeast upon the coral capped.
Here a group of islands lay in blue ocean with white foam.
Peaceful lands with simple ways Uchinanchu (Oo-chin-nan-chew) call their home.
People of land and sea, joyful when days begin.
Toil to evenings when free, dance to play of Sanshin.
Worship of the elements, commit to daily prayer.
Matriarch embellishments of ritual household fare.
Fire Goddess called Hinukan near by the hearth does dwell.
Pray to this shrine when evils spawn and break their wicked spell.
It’s a land of festivals, too many to be counted.
Tug of war or fighting bulls, or sugarcane harvest mounted.
It’s a land where work is tough in the sweltering tropical heat.
Fishing, cutting cane is rough when you drip sweat from head to feet.
It’s a land of ghosts and haunting where spirit and real world merge.
A place that some find daunting when fears above reason surge.
It’s a land of religious wonder, beliefs strengthened by the clan.
Each achievement and blunder determined by cosmic plan.
In mystic lands far-Far East, on an ocean deep and blue.
In the islands of simple peace, I’ll be waiting there for you.