Morning serenade

In the treetops, fresh breezes;

distant, melodious springs rustling

through the solitude of the ravine;

forest sounds and birdcalls.

The playmates of shy dreams

all ascend by the morning light

on the grapevine's swaying branches

in and out of your window

and we come near, half in a dream,

and we make known in our sounds

what, outside among the trees,

the wide Spring valley sings.

Once the day loudly moves its wings,

we are all once again far away;

but deep in your heart resound

joy and sorrow for a long time afterward.