The Northeaster blows,
Among all the winds the one
I love the best, because it portends
A fiery spirit  ...  a good journey  ... .
But now I go  ...  greet
The beautiful Garonne,
And the gardens of Bordeaux
There, where upon the steep bank
The path leads, and the brook falls far down
Into the river, but from above,
A noble pair of oaks and
Silvery poplars gaze on this scene.
 
 ... 
On the feast days
The brown women walk there
Upon the silky earth,
In March,
When day and night are equal,
And over slow pathways,
Heavy with golden dreams,
Lulling breezes pass.
 
 ...