The birds’ aubade in spring begins at dawn
Before the sun has risen, while the gray
Of twilight brightens on the dew-drenched lawn,
Announcing to the world returning day.
Or do they, rather, summon with their songs
A sun that otherwise would not arise
But for the magic melodies of throngs
Of birds the world around, as I surmise?
But now the sky is brighter, and the birds
Have quelled the clamor of their urgent chorus,
Leaving it to me to find the words
To brighten up the day that lies before us,
And what I say: is song leads on to song,
Each lightening our lives, all the day long.