First light of dawn
Uphill, he walked still dark, he had
to be at the farm at five milking times.
The westerly wind makes the climb hard
the cattle will be mooing in their pens
the boss is grumpy, he is hungry but
has no time to eat
milking eight cows by hand is no joke.
End of the last hill he saw the farm's
the farm, there is light in the kitchen,
Emma, my dog, barks and stops when
she hears his steps, the morning light he
stop and catch his breath, they are not
I am going to think that he was hasting
  a quick mug of coffee
a slice of ham, just like any other day
they will wonder, the maids whisper
but do not ask where
and with whom he spent the night.