The sun climbs slow through silver haze, Its golden breath on meadow lays. The dew like stars upon the land, A quiet gift in nature’s hand. The birds begin their morning hymn, A song of joy on branches thin. Each note a thread in sky’s own lace, Each wing a prayer in open space. And I belong to this bright hour, To dreams that bloom like heather flower. To love that wakes with morning light, And dances free in soft delight. Is mise beò, is mise gràdh, Fo ghrian na maidne, le mo chràdh. (I am alive, I am love, Beneath the morning sun, with all I’ve felt.) The breeze is warm, the world is kind, No sorrow lingers in my mind. The day begins, the heart replies Alive beneath these endless skies. I speak to life with open hands, No fear, no rush, no strict demands. Just hope that rises with the sun, And love that grows in everyone. And I belong to this bright hour, To dreams that bloom like heather flower. To love that wakes with morning light, And sings with joy through day and night. Is mise beò, is mise gràdh, Fo ghrian na maidne, le mo chràdh. So let the dew kiss every blade, Let morning never be afraid. For in its hush, I find my grace A life reborn in nature’s face.
