The sun rises from behind the mountain tops,

Not a soul stirs, wrapped in the coils of sleep,

And at a distance passes a young boy,

With his flock of sheep,

Taking them to the meadows,

Where the grass is green,

Taking them to the meadows,

Where life is so serene,

Walking across the bridge, walking across the river,

Walking to the meadows, where the grasses quiver,

No he doesn’t walk alone, alone with his sheep,

He has his companions in the wind, the land, the trees,

He tethers the sheep with a rope,

He tethers them to the ground,

And gets lost in his dreams,

In his sleep so sound,

The sun sets as the wind blows over the mountain tops,

Rocking the grass to sleep,

And in the distance returns the boy with his flock of sheep.