Spring has come and birds greet it
Festively with a cheerful song;
And with the breath of gentle breezes
Springs trickle with a sweet murmur.
Lightning and thunder, elected to announce it,
Come and cover the air with a black cloak.
Once they are quiet, the birds
Return to their enchanting song.
Then on the pleasant, flowered meadow
A goatherd, with his faithful dog at his side,
Sleeps to the sweet murmur of fronds and plants.
To the festive sound of a rustic bagpipe
Nymphs and shepherds dance under the beloved canoyp
At the brilliant appearance of spring.
L'Estate Summer No. 2 in g minor
Under the harsh season ignited by the sun
Man and flock languish, and the pine burns;
The cuckoo offers his voice, and, soon heard,
The young turtledove and goldfinch sing.
Zephyr blows gently, but suddenly
Boreas offers opposition to his neighbor;
And the shepherd weeps, because he fears
A severe storm in the offing - and his destiny.
The repose of his tired limbs is is disturbed
By the fear of lightning and thunder,
And by a furious swarm of flies and wasps.
Unfortunately, his fears are justified.
The sky thunders and fulminates, and hail
Flattens ears of corn and majestic grains.
L'Autunno Autumn No.3 in F Major
The peasant celebrates the blissful pleasure
Of a happy harvest with dances and song,
And, glowing with the liquor of Bacchus,
Many complete their enjoymen with sleep.
The air, tempered by pleasure, makes
Everyone give up dances and songs.
It is the season that invites so many
To the great enjoyment of a sweet sleep.
At dawn the hunters are off to the hunt
With horns, rifles, and dogs.
The wild beast flees, and they follow its trail.
Frightened already, and fatigued by the noise
Of rifles and dogs, wounded, it threatens
Languidly to flee, but, overcome, it dies.
L'Inverno Winter No.4 in f minor
To tremble from cold in the icy snow,
In the harsh breath of a horrid wind;
To run, stamping our feet every moment,
Our teeth chattering in the extreme cold.
Before the fire to pass peacful,
Contented days while the rain outside pours down.
To walk on the ice and, at a slow pace
(For fear of falling), move carefully.
To make a bold turn, slip, fall down.
To go on the ice once more and run hard
Until the ice cracks and breaks up.
To hear Sirocco, Boreas, and all
The winds at war leave their iron gates:
This is winter, but, even so, what joy it brings!
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