Awake

Awake, awake, to this bright shining day.
The sparrows are testing the breezes.
The scent of the blossoming olives from Russia
Lies heavy like oranges juicy and sweet.

I love it, I love it.
Joy mixes with sorrow.
The bushes and grasses now green in the spring
Dry and brown will become on the morrow.

by Erville Allen

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