Hortelã Mourísca [English translation]

Come the August sun, I'll sleep in the meadow,

Everything is placed there without an iron plow.

The bed is made of Moorish mint

And the chamomile lurks with elusive grace!

Moorish mint interspersed with chamomile,

Come wash your face with her dew!

Moorish mint at daybreak,

I'll kiss your eyes, perfumed rose!

Under a sea of stars with chamomile flowers,

I won't have boundaries, nor have windows!

I'll have my love, the elusive meadowlark,

All perfumed with Moorish mint!