The Virgin is washing
and hanging up to dry on the rosemary
the birds are singing,
and the rosemary flowering.
Look how they drink
The fishes in the river,
But look how they drink
At the sight of God's birth.
They drink and drink and drink again,
At the sight of God's birth.
The Virgin is brushing her hair
Between curtain and curtain,
Her hair is made of gold,
Her brush of fine silver.
But look how they drink
The fishes in the river,
But look how they drink
At the sight of God's birth.
They drink and drink and drink again,
At the sight of God's birth.
The Virgin goes walking
Amongst those palm trees,
The Boy looks in her eyes,
The color of the truth
But look how they drink
The fishes in the river,
But look how they drink
At the sight of God's birth.
They drink and drink, and drink again,
At the sight of God's birth