I am the speech of the hot and beaming sun, and when the reapers, weary of heaping the sheaves together, lie down in the lukewarm shade, and sleep and pant in the ardour of noonday--then more than at any other time do I utter freely and joyously that double-echoing strophe with which my whole body vibrates.

And when nothing else moves in all the land round about, I palpitate and loudly sound my little drum.

Otherwise the sunlight triumphs; and in the whole landscape nothing is heard but my cry,--like the joy of the light itself.
"Like a butterfly I take up from the hearts of the flowers that pure water which the night lets fall into them like tears.

I am inspired only by the almighty sun.

Socrates listened to me; Virgil made mention of me.