In tears of pure silver we do soon grow old
but what if we cried in tears of gold?
Why just shed a tear upon the dark tomb
when a newborn emerges from the depths of the womb?
Why cry at the thunder of clouds drawing near
when the playful rain laughs and the rainbows appear?
How oft have you cried at the sighing of trees
or the singing of birds, or the breath of the breeze?
It is true, one must grieve and mourn the dead
but can one then see the bright road ahead?
Alone, tears of silver let darkness unfold
but the bright light of dawn comes with bright tears of gold.