Exulting, the lurk to the heaven is soaring,
And from the edge of the clouds grey-gleaming
On to the world that with wonders is teeming
A rain of melodious pearls he is pouring.
And every tone like gold is ringing,
And the earth as it hearkens in rapture is thrilled
And its bosom with hope of the blossoms is filled,
And to it the scent of the fresh soil is clinging.