| Where, as green as grass, the changing blades crept around in the weeds. You flew with me when I stepped into the lovely Belino Valley, Whose river, born out of crags, wildly rushes and roars along in bright green waves Turning up the banks and the Riverbed. Do you still remember the inscription set there on the wall in the Tower, But made lower than the head, which Titus Clemens at one time Engraved into the stone for himself and Erotica, his companion, Above the little place of rest and on the site of eternal peace? Titus he called himself. His bond of servitude was gently Untied, and that esteemed prince loaned it his own name, whose home was here in the valley. My yearning was also fulfilled here, when I found the green Forest. Forest, oh forest, for which I had long Sought in vain! Happily I stepped inside between old chestnut trees Under the maze of branches and breathed in the fragrant forest air. How soft the ground felt in the hall of vaulting Boughs, where under the ceiling of the tall shadows I saw the green leaves above guilded by the sun! I then turned my path this way into the valley of the Aterno, Through the bushy meadows and columns that lay ruined on the ground, Whose banks are fringed with violets that breathe out fragrance, Where all around the crescents and summits shimmer In show, While the almond trees begin to bud on sunny hills And peach trees cover themselves with a shiny red gown of blossoms. Here in the valley is a lake overgrown with rush
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