Where apples ripe in the orchards hang, and grapes on the trellised vines
(Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines?
Smell you the buckwheat, where the bees were lately buzzing?)
Above all, lo! the sky, so calm, so transparent after the rain and with wondrous clouds;
Below too all calm, all vital and beautiful—and the farm prospers well. 10
Down in the fields all prospers well;
But now from the fields come, father—come at the daughter’s call;
And come to the entry, mother—to the front door come, right away.
Fast as she can she hurries—something ominous—her steps trembling;
She does not tarry to smooth her white hair, nor adjust her cap. 15