Wi a di Echo

This song is about our roots as a people and was adapted from the poem ''The Brood of the Old Fig''. The poem is in my third poetry book ''A Soothsayer's Requiem'' (Available on Amazon).
Here's the original poem:

The Brood of the Old Fig

We are a people,
Buds sprouting from the roots of the old fig,
We mime with the chants of the roots below.
Our hearts, they pulsate,
With the vibrations deep in her growth rings,
Our veins run thick with the pitch in her wood.

We are an echo,
We are the rolls outlanders ne’er could twig,
Her song is our birthright, a dulcet flow.
Tis our quest and fate,
To gather at her bosom o’er the springs,
Where our forebears and the sibyls once stood.

The grail of the tribe,
Is to jaunt to the fig and bear witness,
To go back to she that gave birth to her.
Hear! The old tree chants,
Her roots, her twigs call out to their kinsfolk,
Down in the valleys of the flecked mountain.

Bid every subtribe,
Let you trace the treads of the shepherdess,
For e’en the old spirit has felt the stir.
The alp and her plants,
The herds and the springs watch the mountain folk,
Flock to the cradle of the old fountain.

We are a people
Buds sprouting from the roots of the old fig.
We are an echo
An echo finds her way back to the source.