O this songy morn, this greenness all around,
O this songy morn
This greenness all around
Is it not the best way?
To fly fly faraway ?
Like a bird
So non conformist
Singing only for this autumnal mist
Painting joys upon her eyelids,
Is it not a proper art
To fly where ocean never stays from sky apart?
O this beauty of a life for long time to remember
This monsoony tune dressing a September
This flight to only pure paintbrushes and bottles never going dry,
This morn me wishes only to the spreading wide fly...
O this songy morn,
O this life again to be born...