The Morning Sun

The morning sun is grand;
It bathes both sea and land with gold;
Of all things it takes hold,
To touch and free with bold light swords,
From dark constraints of hords
Of shadows, free from words of dark;
Now all things sing like larks;
No more has night its mark on Earth;
The Sun's radiant birth
Has boldly exchanged dearth for song.




Notes:
This is color coded to highlight the tonal structure of a Lục bát poem.

Syllables marked with red are supposed to be "sharp" .
Syllables marked with blue are supposed to be "flat" .

Do you agree? Use your own ear to judge.

There's also a rhyme scheme, do you see it? I haven't used perfect rhymes, and that's ok.

For more on the Lục bát, check out Round 84 of the Oriental Poetry Contest.

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