Fete Gallante

The Morning Star flies from the clouds and the bird cries to the dawn.        Amaryllis, awake! Lead your snowy sheep to pasture while the cold grass glitters with white dew.        To-day I will pasture my goats in a shady valley, for later it will be very hot.        Among those distant hills lies a very great valley cut by a fair stream.        Here there are cold rills and soft pasture and the kind wind engenders many-coloured flowers.        Dear, there I shall be alone, and if you love me, there you will come alone also. --Marcantonio Flaminio  translated by  Richard Aldington