The rose pink dawn flows
Through these tender skies in its
Own enchanted way,
And becomes a bright spring day.
Birds are now singing
Like keen, minor sopranos.
Endless yellow fields
Gradually awaken,
Like precious treasure,
From another time and place.
Everything is coaxed
Into life by the sunlight.
O the whole scene is
Picture postcard perfection!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem