Greatness, my child, is your lot,
the golden dream after which for you I seek,
even before my first glance at your face,
so had I prayed.

I prayed the rivers,
I prayed the gentle dews,
I prayed the glorious sways,
of joy in your arteries to perpetually flow.

Alpha child, my heartbeat I bare,
that you climb the wind to your sky,
stand on the scalps of the mountains,
to mount the throne of your greatness.

For this, the nightingale joyfully sings,
the pines spray the night with fragrant melodies
that animate the leaves to a wavy dance.
Gladly, these foreshadow your glorious rise.

Now dream beyond my dreams,
pray prayers bigger than I pray,
'cause your destiny in fluorescent colors grins,
your light brighter than my days shines.

Be bold, be dauntless,
as a young lion roam your borderless territory,
roar till the clouds flee,
so that your greatness may ever rain.