The Blue Bird's Song

Here comes the droplets,

From the brink of skies;

The air is crisp,

Where this holy land lies.

Falling like tears,

Of the mighty endlessness;

Meeting with the greens,

With a laugh of caress.

The bird with the blue neck,

Has a dance of its own;

Where the moon is all smiles,

With a melody prolonged.

Lo here comes the heavens,

The droplets of skies;

Where this holy land smells,

Has an enchanting vibe.