The first rays of morning fall on the yellow leaves:
Each dew drop sparkles like a small diamond…
Or what I imagine a diamond must sparkle like.
I have been down with unsolicited sorrow.
Somewhere under my ribs lies a beating heart
Smashed to smithereens with unrequited love:
I ought to feel quite terrible, I tell myself.
There is much in the world to brood about:
And while I insist so, some unseen bird,
Breaks passionately into a song
Like his life depended on it.
If you think so, or feel so, in the end,
There is not much difference between
The dew drops and the sparkling diamonds.
Likewise, when your heart is free to feel,
Sorrows and joys can be quite alike…
Especially when the birds are singing
And diamonds sparkle in the morning grass.