1. No meadow on the upland, for which the dew has woven

    embroidered robes red with anemones,

  2. whose necks the darkness lifts and whose life is prolonged by

    the morning light streaming across every eastern horizon,

  3. that weeps with eyes when the sun smiles upon it,

    their lids garlanded and their pupils yellow,

  4. whose ground mirrors the sky’s color and is adorned

    with stars like the twinkling stars above,

  5. is sweeter in fragrance than his virtues, before which

    the fairest of creatures bow in beauty.

Sol 6