Текст и описание
This is the poetry of creation.
A word in the dark, and the dark gives and singing] way
Light on the water, the water in motion
And night finds its
Border and opens today.
Thorn after
Thorn on the rain-bright mountain, lark after lark in the wind-woken trees
He speaks the world into color and cadence
Then gives it a voice.
And the rivers and seas all sing the line.
Let the hills reply.
Let
The fiddle fly where the swallows fly.
From
The first bright breath to the final page, every verse belongs
To the
Lord of grace
A word in the dark, and the dark gives and singing] way
Light on the water, the water in motion
And night finds its
Border and opens today.
Thorn after
Thorn on the rain-bright mountain, lark after lark in the wind-woken trees
He speaks the world into color and cadence
Then gives it a voice.
And the rivers and seas all sing the line.
Let the hills reply.
Let
The fiddle fly where the swallows fly.
From
The first bright breath to the final page, every verse belongs
To the
Lord of grace
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