How beautiful the young sun's floating upwards! Her morning greeting shoots flames into the day. Blessed is he who greets her with love, When dreamily beautiful they surrender to the night! Yes, I know,

The sun sets in the west. She has never lost her way. It's a spectacle and a miracle. She chose the west. But sometimes the view is clouded. The cloud bank is enthroned in the sky. She captures the sunbeam

It lay in reflective smoothness In front of us the endless lake; The white chain of the Alps Marble rose to the heights. A dull rumble of thunder, towards evening it was bloody red; Above that in black