From A Land (II)

I was glad to hear in the woods
the sound of the lumberman's axe,
in the balmy stillness of the air
scented with rue and fumes of honeysuckle.
You, lumberman, cut down, like a god,
dreamlike trees, of obscure legend,
in the magic air of the solitudes:
there, in the summer, the breeze whispers,
the bee sips enchanted rosemary
and water flows, crystalline and harsh.

(Versió de Salvador Pila)