each one its own song
and in the morning
the sun plays like a gong
and the world is joyous
we are as light as air
and the music is like magic
to which we sway
and go along the day
everyone their own way
and my pink roses bloom
seven of them
and their petals
become my eyes
and make me wise
and life I embrace
its happiness
in my hands
I have won the race.