To the beneficial rays of the rising sun,
A July morning when the sun is red
And the coral sky embroiders a dreamy decor,
Faint shades run across the lawn.

In the tepid embrace, immobile caress,
Enveloping the newborn day on the gardens,
The breeze that whispers to my ears
Of violin songs with baladin accents.

The silvery dew on the grass is sprinkled,
And its lustrous drops iridescent with crystal,
Sweating on the degree that rises and breaks,
To soon fade away under the virginal sky.

Some white butterflies, on the thorn bushes,
Already begin their flight around the flowers,
In a hurry to gather in the rich stamens,
When the azure spreads its heat a little more.

To the song of the lark where the light gilds
Beautiful visions that know how to move me,
With idolatry my eyes are colored,
And my heart is a flood of happiness to provide.

The lilies are full of flowers, the fine passeroses,
And the poppies evacuate their sleep,
In a discreet ballet of blooming corollas,
In pastels whose charm has no other equal.

To the vapors of awakening Nature hums;
The golden threads of the sun flatter the air;
The birth of the day, mirific, galloons
With a sacred scarf the dulcifying summer.
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