Morning
When the dawn breaks at the early hours
and everyone sleeps,
gradually the orange coloured sun out peeps.
The birds start chirping and flying
The calm breeze starts blowing.
The cuckoo sings a sweet song
To listen whose song we do long.
The cock cries out cock-a-doodle do
Listening to whose cry we realise it is time
now to awake and be ready soon.
Morning thus is the most calm and quiet hour
of the day
In which although we work burning our oil
We remain joyous and gay.
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