Under the heat of the burning summer sun,

Languish man and flock; the pine is parched.

The cuckoo finds its voice, and suddenly,

The turtledove and goldfinch sing.

A gentle breeze blows,

But suddenly, the north wind appears.

The shepherd weeps because, overhead,

Lies the fierce storm, and his destiny.

His tired limbs are deprived of rest

By his fear of lightning and fierce thunder,

And by furious swarms of flies and hornets.

Alas, how just are his fears,

Thunder and lightening fill the Heavens, and the hail

Slices the tops of the corn and other grain

-L' Estate, Antonio Vivaldi