There's nothing good as merry as mellow meadows.
An airfield of gentle buzzing breeze; mine shadows --
Doth smile and racing with my fingers; the grasses --
And theirs as if hands they reach on me, wanting me --

Be embellished and coiled around me and passes --
Through me, aloft and up. The sun then smiled widely;
An audience -- fan of mine -- Who hath been following,
By virtue of his eyes -- his rays now are sparkling?

And aye! About these meadows that I've been frolic.
These wonders rarely seen by eyes, made mine eyes stick;
And that there is no breaking up about this lark,
And may these wonderful wonders remain still. For;

There's nothing good as merry as mellow meadows.
An airfield of gentle buzzing breeze; mine shadows --
Doth smile and racing with my fingers; the grasses --
And theirs as if hands they reach on me, wanting me --

Hark! Hark! Hark!
Hear! Mine! Roar!