I do not know how it smells
or what color that Wild Flower is
but every bird in every meadow
does nothing but sing Its praises.

Should those Magic Eyes wish,
every angel would run to this lowly earth
and abandon the highest heaven.

Heaven borrows its spellbinding beauty from You.
Spring borrows its perfumed glory from You.
I am not the only one adoring You.
Everybody’s and everything’s life here
is but devoted to singing these praises.

Translation Vraje Abramian