Na noite de São João
É que é tomar amores,
Que estão os trigos nos campos
Todos com as suas flores.
(St. John’s night yields
Love’s fairest hour,
For the corn in the fields
Is all aflower.)
many superstitious beliefs are also connected with this night. Its hours between midnight and dawn are among the most precious of all the year, and no witch who has the least inkling of her business will waste a single instant of them. The dews (orvalhadas) then gathered have a special virtue, as also rosemary and other herbs and water brought from the mountains and streams. By the fountains appear enchanted Moorish maidens combing their hair with combs of gold, and many other spirits are abroad. It is the night, too, of the great blue thistles or Jerusalem artichokes (alcachofras) and other auguries of love. Next morning, on St. John’s Day, the sun dances at its rising. So a Galician romance begins with these lines—
Madrugada de San Joan,