When the pleasures of my day;

food and drink, games and play.

And the vision of the face

I wish to love in a lonely place

can fill no longer my deepest well,

then the earth has become hell.

When the lofty plans I made

lose their glow and begin to fade

and the hopes that made me rise

become corrupted in my eyes.

Then my life becomes a chore,

a draining task and not much more.

So I wish on stars at night

that each new day burns so bright.

That the sunshine and the rainfall

will show me beauty in one and all.

That the joys coming hours bring

make me laugh and long to sing.