I sing the green
I sing the sea
I sing the breeze
Fresh, mild one
I sing the graceful flower
I sing the poet's gift
In the woman, her child
I sing the impetus of loving
I sing the night
I sing the dawn
I sing the birds
In the morning
I sing in one's mind
Every madness
I sing hills and rivers
The both so quiet
I sing to be born
I sing the future
I sing the flowers
Always ready to smell
And for not crying
I sing, I sing, I sing. |