In robes of golden brown and black,
We rise at very early hours,
To praise the day the Lord has made,
And pay our visits to the flowers.
You’ll find us working cheerfully,
Both in the fields and at home,
And from each tiny devotee,
You’ll hear our constant mantra: Aum.
When the bells of vespers call
We return with all our neighbors,
And in our apis apsidal
We lay the fruits of all our labors.
And there within our sacred nave
All our toils are transformed,
And with the sweetness we have made,
Our souls’ devotion is adorned.
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