This is the island of gardens,
Filled with a marvelous fragrance,
O! the pale scent of the jasmine!
O! the delicious mimosa!

Beating soft pinions together,
Cometh a wind from the mountains;
Why wouldst thou leave us, O small wind?
Rest thee awhile ‘mid the laurels.

Even as thou, have I wandered
Over the earth and the ocean,
Pondering many things deeply,
Now I lie down in the sunshine.