In the Carpathians, where mountains soar high,
Where rivers flow through valleys nearby,
Blooms a berry, like a mystical flower,
From which we make tea, with enchanting power.
The forests here rustle, nightingales sing,
And abundant are berries that nature will bring.
We gather them gently, in baskets they rest,
To brew a fine tea, it's truly the best.
The berry's aroma immediately fills the air,
Its color like Carpathian peaks so fair.
We sip and we dream, connect with the land,
In every sip, we hold nature's hand.
The taste is unique, like a moonlit night,
It opens a world with mystical light.
Carpathian berry tea, a true delight,
A poem of nature, love, and our mountainous height.
