The breeze was from the west: it came over the hills, sweet with scents of heath and rush; the sky was of stainless blue; the stream descending the ravine, swelled with past spring rains, poured along plentiful and clear, catching golden gleams from the sun, and sapphire tints from the firmament.
Il vento soffiava da occidente e giungeva a noi recandoci il profumo dell'erica e della ginestra; il torrente, che scendeva nel burrone, era gonfio dalle recenti pioggie e rifletteva i raggi del sole e la tinta azzurra del cielo.