Buryatia

My heart's desire, a journey to be hold,
Where summer's warmth and winter's chill entwine,
Where boundless realms of freedom do unfold,
A breathtaking vista, a feast for the divine.

Buryatia, land of steppe and mountain's might,
Where winds weave melodies, a chorus bright.

Lake Baikal's azure, a celestial dome,
Its depths unfathomed, an eternal home.
Its waters pure as mountain's icy flow,
A beauty unparalleled, a radiant glow.

Along the Baikal Highway, we swiftly glide,
Clouds like sails above us, gently guide.
Open skies and freedom, our spirits soar,
As nature's embrace, we eagerly explore.

Khamar-Daban's peaks, guardians of time's sway,
Snow-capped summits, symbols of strength's display.
The endless steppe, an ocean without shore,
A breathtaking tapestry, forever to adore.

Yurts and herds, a glimpse of ancient ways,
People welcoming, with open hearts and praise.
Buryatia, Baikal, a childhood dream come true,
A moment of wonder, a bond that will renew.

Whispers of legend, carried on the breeze,
Of heroes and shamans, in ancient trees.
Primeval magic lingers in this sacred land,
Enchanting, alluring, a sweet and dreamy strand.

Baikal and Buryatia, my heart's true love,
A passion ignited, sent from above.
To these shores, I'll return, again and again,
Buryatia, my sanctuary, where my spirit finds its gain.