A cock crows,
The wind blows,
The sun begins to shine,
From its nest a little bird,
Starts to take flight.

In the fields where the flowers bloom,
The colourful butterflies roam,
Paddy fields stretch for many a mile,
Beyond a stream flows.

Often is heard from a little girl,
Many a delightful cry,
Or occasionally the rumbling sound,
Of a vehicle passing by.

Bit by bit the quiet streets,
Fill with different sounds,
People talking, children shouting,
What a noisy crowd.