In the early day there is some beauty
while the breeze in grass and bracken plays,
up high a lark is soaring wild and free.
In the early day
there is something joyful and something gay
with a kind of grace in everything I see
while over the hill a rider gallops away
and it's as if something is calling me
to awaken you, to kiss you if I may,
together to find some serenity
in the early day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem