God has placed a sphere of gold,
who is beautiful but too old.
He is there near the sky,
Watching us from high.

There are the spruce and birch,
For whom he will search.
He will shower them his golden rays,
And tell them to walk in his ways.

And there is a broad valley,
Who will call him holy.
The nature was quenching in green,
Where, long ago I had been.

He was dropping his gold,
All the...