It’s loudest in the morning.
The return of the sun
summons up bravely
the magnificent song.
Every ounce of time is precious.
Every moment is a breath.
Every breath is but a footstep,
otherwise, you’d get nowhere.
A new day has cast its lots
for better or worse.
The game continues on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is a summons to make the most of the time we have. And the earlier we start the more time we have each day. And so it's appropriate the speaker is awake and alert to hear the Song of Morning. The key line line seems to me to be: EVERY OUNCE OF TIME IS PRECIOUS. Getting up with the sun is only the first footstep to fulfilling this view of time. There's an urgency that will not diminish as the day goes on. And the closing line with its reference to an on-going game makes that clear. This poem is a summons that opposes a more relaxed. laid-back view of life - Chill, man, it's only 6 am, gotta get more winks. NO, ON YOUR FEET! FACE THE SUN AND BREATHE ITS ENERGY! START YOUR DAY NOW!