The sunrise dressed in white
Is opening the doors to the great sun by now;
And touches the field of flowers with his rosy fingers
And the creations around appear moved by an ancient shiver.
And you are not awaking, and in vain I am here singing in pain.
Wear the white vest as he does and open the door to your singer!
Where you are not the light is missing
Where you are at love begins. X2
You had marked this as a transliteration, I changed the language to English.