When the wind charmingly blows,
The young rose is laughing,
And the hedge of beautiful emeralds
Does not fear the summer heat.
To the dance, to the dance, happily come,
All you sweet nymphs, flowers of beauty!
Just like the waters of a faint but clear source,
Flow from the mountains to the sea.

-From a Follia by Girolamo Frescobaldi.