Summer

Let us go into the fields, my beloved,
For the time of harvest approaches,
And the sun's eyes are ripening the grain.

Let us tend the fruit of the earth,
As the spirit nourishes the grains of joy from the seeds of love,
sowed deep in our hearts

Let us fill our bins with the products of nature,
As life fills so abundantly the domain of our hearts with her endless bounty.

Let us make the flowers our bed,
and the sky our blanket,
and the rest our heads together upon pillows of soft hay

Let us relax after the day's toil,
and listen to provoking murmur of the brook
(Gibran Kahlil)
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