They gather when the fields are green,
beneath the golden sun,
they gather in the meadow,
ready for some fun

They run amongst the grass,
waving above their heads,
they skip into a circle,
and gladly, catching hands:

they hop to the left and spin to the right,
they sing their happy tunes,
while others play the fiddle and fife
upon a gray mushroom

In and out they weave around,

I’m walking on a rugged road,
It’s so hard to keep going.

Storms won't stop coming my way,
I trip on a stone almost every day.

I fall to the left,
I fall to the right.

Only God is the one who continues my life.

Rain splashes on my face,
Snow makes my feet fail the pace.

I stop to rest,
I try and try to get up again.
I fail.

I’m starting to get sleepy.