The clear sky. In the distance, high forests

leafy, plenty, green, branchy,

they hide flowers, birds and feasts,

From there fly crystalline volatas,

among the few clearings of the branches:

in the interior there are daisy laughters

Outside, in the exterior, of the green jungle,

at the edge of the ways, through the valleys,

insects on the smaragdine grass,

Beautiful fruits are aimed at in corimbs,

weaving idylls in the more tender enlacement...

Cheerful birds fly, amidst rain clouds,

In a green and flowery bower,

here in a branch, beyond in a high stalk,

The wind out doesn't ululate — it sings

amidst the flowers, where there are light and odor.

Its song is going with the aroma that lifts

Smiling the nature finally retakes

the charm that lost in the extinct Autumn.

In the wood there are songs — musical symptom