The dawn removes the night’s hold
And greets the dust of the worker’s feet
And spreads the coating of light.
The rose of the morning
Breaks through the layer of fog
And spreads its holy fragrance
On the worker’s journey.
The vast yellow field of crops
Dances gracefully
On the bend of the worker’s lips
In the desire for a smile of satisfaction.
The sky breaks down
And the fountain of water
Keeps an eye on the worker’s dry eyes.
The unwavering waves of the sea
Crash on the river bed
And the body and field burned by the heat of the worker
Becomes fertile.
The dawn of day descends
In the voice of the worker’s fatigue
Keeping his eyes – calling for rest.
The birds of the morning wake up and sing in the lake in various tunes, the melodious songs bring a little excitement to the mind of the worker, bring joy.
This decorated decoration of the world stands
The sacrifice of the blood and sweat of the worker
Whatever is visible, whatever is decayed
The fair inheritance of everything –
The worker and the blood and sweat of the worker.
