«The sun had risen and began to fill the new day with the splendor of its light. Perched on their green branches, the little birds sang sweet songs that announced the new day. When all the ladies and the three young men had arisen, the stepped out into the garden and, slowly striding through the dewy grass, strolled about the garden weaving lovely wreaths.»
Giovanni Boccaccio «Decameron», 1353