The whole sky glows 
in bright morning roses;
With one last loose dream 
still in my soul
My eyes drink in this light,
More and more awake, like the wine of health.
And now comes the glow of the day
From that hill of roses, and the stir of its wings,
Comes day itself, and filled with old love,
That through it I shall overcome
Grief of night and what else got lost,
Day calls me up to its bosom!
And as the woods and the fields ring
And the gardens begin to sing.
Far and dull the sea roars, awoken.
I see sails gliding into the sunny distance,
White sails of the fresh wind,
Quiet, golden clouds aloft, clouds above
And in the blueness are these migrant birds?
Be quiet, o soul, are you not satiated?
Look, a kingdom the day granted you.
Go!  Let your deeds praise it!  Ah!