Bright and hibiscus-red, like the morning sun
you are rising, you the poets of days to come.
The glowing morning for which we awake
You are waking in flocks, O birds, for that sake.
I sing the hymn in the hope that you will come
And rise in the blue sky that I make.
I leave behind the memory of my salutation –
please play on my lute your new-day song.
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