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

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.

A whisper low beyond the wall, a name below the breath—

For Life is full of treachery, yet Love is Lord of Death—

The tinkle of a gay guitar, a cry, a horse in flight—

Ay Dios! guard the quinta in the gorgeous tropic night.