Every shadowed misty mountain,

All the dew drops in the sky.

I scream into the open,

On the peak of the mount High.

I want everyone to listen,

Oh! What melancholy.

Echo over echoes,

In that summer morning breeze.

Sitting on the top,

Birds chirping beneath.

The golden ball of fire ,

Will rise up from the east.

Seeing something so beautiful,

Only my heart desires.

Will not stay forever,

But at least it’s worth while.