Leaves glowing in the sun, zealous hum of bumblebees From afar, from somewhere beyond the river, echoes of lingering voices And the unhurried sounds of a hammer gave joy not only to me Before the five senses were open, and earlier than any beginning They waited, ready, for all those who would call themselves mortals, So that they might praise, as I do, life, that is happiness.                                                 An Hour, Czeslaw Milosz