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