GOOD MORNING : THE CHANTICLEER'S SONG

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The aubade spiraled higher and descended upon the cold world
And the earth ruptured into wild laugher, so bright and so true
Painting the whole environment with the colors of new and old
From the primal wombs of the far reaching oceans and the blue

The desolate darkness of night fades away, into the mountains
And the continuing green breathes emmanations of golden air
Rising to the immortal spell in openings of firmament curtains
For the diurnal course is broken and pieces descend everywhere

Dying the irreproachable sight of the creatures of land and sea
Wearing all a robe of inmost illumination knitted with vitamins
Binding the consternations of the night, to dreams and fantasy
As the pillow hugging inhabitants awake, encomium it summons

Over the hills, and over the valleys, over the rivers and the towns
Downcast people and happy Kings, lofty heavenly light spreads
The chanticleer stands on top of a roof and it sings sweet songs
Good morning, it vociferates to the world, out of your bedsheets

Get up, get up, get up to the rising sun and guide up your voice
In hymns of worship and prayers of thanks to the God you serve
For somebody slept yesterday and travelled lost without choice
So if you are alive today, envisioning this sunrise, know it is love.

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