The birds fly away from  the evergreen pines
As I stir out of bed
And open the window to see
The mountains still asleep
Behind the thick veil of fog.

I fix the binoculars,
Adjust the lenses
Pierce through them
And lo, the mountains now seem awake:

They glide on the wide plains.
A hide-and seek goes on between us;
Till the start of the rain
When the vision melts,
Like the words of love
The time will wear slowly away.