Brandishing the lightning lance, the sun arrives, The mighty, majestic monarch of the day. Kissing the mouldy mountain rows, he comes, Banishing mist and frost from night’s blotched brow. With what rich ruby ring of radiance he appears, Smearing liquid gold, he gracefully moves. Sparkling splashes spread and the world becomes bright. The punctual rooster raises his raucous revelry. Birds and beasts wake up from their slumberous sleep. The feathered folks begin to warble their symphony. The verdant vales below send up a welcoming sign. The leaves stay bright tipped with dainty droplets of dew. Morn, the bashful maiden with modest grace, Peeps through half drawn curtains in the East. Removing all trace of a worn out yesterday, Sun comes and mellow murmurs grow into melodies.
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