A Riff on Itau Oscar's Early Morning
I climbed the mountain tract
Stepping over the wet dew earth
My eyes ahead, not looking back;
The sun a burning orb
Lifted its orange lamp
The rocks and trees absorbed
The air of liquid damp;
I spread my out-stretched arms
To the valley that lay before
Overwhelmed by Nature’s charm.
Feeing somehow reassured.
Give me this day, my daily bread,
And I will step where no foot has tread,
Shining smiles on all I meet
I sniff the air, the air smells sweet.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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