These sonnets appeared in the first edition of The Four Seasons, published in 1725. Many assume they were penned by Vivaldi, although no one is certain. They nevertheless must have been important to the composer.

SPRING
Allegro
Springtime is upon us.
The birds celebrate her return with festive song,
and murmuring streams are
softly caressed by the breezes.
Thunderstorms, those heralds of Spring, roar,
casting their dark mantle over heaven.
Then they die away to silence,
and the birds take up their charming songs once more.

Largo
On the flower-strewn meadow, with leafy branches
rustling overhead, the goat-herd sleeps,
his faithful dog beside him..

Allegro
Led by the festive sound of rustic bagpipes,
nymphs and shepherds lightly dance
beneath spring’s beautiful canopy.

SUMMER
Allegro non molto
Under a hard season, fired up by the sun,
languishes man, languishes the flock, and burns the pine.
We hear the cuckoo’s voice;
then sweet songs of the turtledove and finch are heard.
Soft breezes stir the air, but threatening,
the North Wind sweeps them suddenly aside.
The shepherd trembles,
fearing violent storms and his fate.

Adagio e piano – Presto e forte
The fear of lightning and fierce thunder
robs his tired limbs of rest
as gnats and flies buzz furiously around.

Presto
Alas, his fears were justified.
The heavens thunder and roar and, with hail,
cut the head off the wheat and damage the grain.

AUTUMN
Allegro
The peasants celebrate, with songs and dances,
the pleasure of a bountiful harvest.
And fired up by Bacchus’ liquor,
many end their revelry in sleep.

Adagio molto
Everyone is made to forget their cares and to sing and dance
by the air that is tempered with pleasure
and (by) the season that invites so many
out of their sweetest slumber to fine enjoyment.

Allegro
The hunters emerge at the new dawn,
and with horns and dogs and guns depart upon their hunting.
The beast flees and they follow its trail;
terrified and tired of the great noise
of guns and dogs, the beast, wounded, threatens
languidly to flee, but harried, dies.

WINTER
Allegro non molto
To tremble from cold in the icy snow,
in the harsh breath of a horrid wind;
to run, stamping one’s feet every moment,
our teeth chattering in the extreme cold

Largo
To rest peacefully before the hearth,
contented days while those outside are drenched by pouring rain.

Allegro
We tread the icy path slowly and cautiously,
for fear of tripping and falling.
Then turn abruptly, slip, crash on the ground and,
rising, hasten on across the ice, lest it cracks up.
We feel the chill north winds course through the home
despite the locked and bolted doors…
this is winter, which nonetheless
brings its own delights.