Little by little the darkness recedes,
Giving its way to the dawn’s early light,
Rising the song of the birds in the trees,
Making again the world coloured and bright.

Awoken are beasts from their night’s slumber,
Arisen are men to work through the day.
And anew bustles all the world under,
Touched and adorned by the sun’s golden rays.

See now the monk upon the high hills,
Singing the song which for ages was sung.
And on his aged words the world round him stills,
Heard is his prayer to life-giver sun.

by the Dionysian

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