The sun rides high, a fiery ball,
And casts its glare on fields of gold,
The summer's heat envelops all,
A tale of warmth, in days of old.
And casts its glare on fields of gold,
The summer's heat envelops all,
A tale of warmth, in days of old.
The air is thick, the world lies still,
Beneath the sun's relentless ray,
And nature rests, with languid will,
Until the close of fading day.
Beneath the sun's relentless ray,
And nature rests, with languid will,
Until the close of fading day.