Hopes are; in the morning born;
Of love, of gentleness of days of
Roses red and grasses green.
The time has come for happy hours
No time to look at skies and flowers
Only a Soul in a faraway chorus
That sings a song in my little forest
And wakens my dreams of dimness
And reflection to memories of joys
And recollection as the sun shines
Within the heart and again the
Knowledge of never being apart.
Of love, of gentleness of days of
Roses red and grasses green.
The time has come for happy hours
No time to look at skies and flowers
Only a Soul in a faraway chorus
That sings a song in my little forest
And wakens my dreams of dimness
And reflection to memories of joys
And recollection as the sun shines
Within the heart and again the
Knowledge of never being apart.