Receives the sun’s hot kisses; and the watchful hawk on high
In breathless ether lonely hangs; faint rings the parrot’s cry.
The stillness is idyllic. As the slow sun swings round
One feels earth’s pulses beating; hears them throbbing through the ground,
The grass where drowsy insects hum, the eaves where pigeons croon;
Ah, lovely is the quinta in the tranquil afternoon.
Oh, lovely is the quinta in the gorgeous tropic night,
When earth is drenched with sweetness, and the moonshine glimmers white
Across the path, ’mid shadows wide, and outlines, too, the wall
Where stand the broad banana trees and lemon flowers fall.