A first blush of pink now heralds new dawn,
With strings of thin white clouds which burn away;
And as refulgent light hints at your form,
Four horses drag hot Sun into the day.*

First blush of pink, and that blush all too brief,
Now night has left upon a whim of blue,
Sky which lights now into stark relief;
And time, it seems, can hold no other hue.

The rising Sun a burning crown of glory,
I see his yellow disk now orb the sky;*
Another day dawns on our human story,
And still there's none who know exactly why.



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