I remember the sun on the day you were born
It shone warm and lovely on the autumn day you were born,
The winds brought the cool promise of rains after the scorched summer
And you came to be in the world.
The sun lovely and warm on the spring evening you died.
Reaching down to the trees by the road on which you were going away,
Gently opening eyes and renewing the promises made before:
This time it is going to be all right.
Then the sun is fading into night.