Red poppies

(In the Sabine valleys near Rome)

Through the seeding grass,

And the tall corn,

The wind goes:

With nimble feet,

And blithe voice,

Calling, calling,

The wind goes

Through the seeding grass,

And the tall corn.

What calleth the wind,

Passing by --

The shepherd-wind?

Far and near

He laugheth low

And the red poppies

Lift their heads

And toss i' the sun.

A thousand thousand blooms

Tost i' the air,

Banners of joy,

For 'tis the shepherd-wind

Passing by,

Singing and laugliing low

Through the seeding grass

And the tall corn.