I woke early like a condemned man to the naivety of birdsong.

If you would and you could brighten my northern sky.

Time has told me not to ask for more, someday our ocean will find its shore.

Fame is but a fruit tree- so very unsound. It can never flourish 'till its stock is in the ground.

I woke early like a condemned man to the naivety of birdsong.

I think there's something extraordinarily nice about seeing the dawn up before one goes to bed, [] there's something uncanny about it.

And see she flies, and she is everywhere.