Out of the delicate dream of the distance an emerald emerges 
Veiled in the violet folds of the air of the sea; 
Softly the dream grows awakening -- shimmering white of a city, 
Splashes of crimson, the gay bougainvillea, the palms. 
High in the infinite blue of its heaven a quiet cloud lingers, 
Lost and forgotten of winds that have fallen asleep, 
Fallen asleep to the tune of a Portuguese song in a garden.