The moonlight was sieving
over the dews-sipped grass;
the flies, in their elements,
zoomed with a flourish
and belted out a song of praise:
the orchard is rich in sweetness,
the young apples are juicy,
the branches are the cradles,
and the leaves are fluffy couches.
God be praised for this blissful beauty,
God be praised for this feast.
we visit this place
when the sun retires to bed,
and the moon lit the path.
O Almighty!
this is for you
'Thank You'
for the silvery lamp!
O Almighty!
this for you
'Thank You'
for the soft sofas!
O Almighty!
this is for you
'Thank You'
for the comfy swings!
O Almighty!
this is for you
'Thank You'
for the luscious fruits!
O Almighty!
Thank you for this song
that flew passed through our lips!