Oh, lovely is the quinta in the warm and sunny morn,
Acequima’s ripple softly to the coming of the dawn;
Fresh breezes toss the branches green, the chill of dusk is past,
Sheer joy of living fills the world! Rare hour, too sweet to last!
The roses fling their petals wide, their fragrance fills the air;
It mingles with the orange buds which blossom everywhere;
The birds chant loud their matins; all the earth seems newly born.
Ah, happy is the quinta in the warm and sunny morn.
Oh, lovely is the quinta in the quiet afternoon
When hushed and calm the breezes lie; the earth in lang’rous swoon