Who wishes to see the red twilight
Stained with wandering clouds,
Let him wait for the sunset?
There, above the sea,
The light is hanged,
And the legend of the day ends,
For the epic of the mysterious night to begin,
Embracing terror and beauty,
Written in dew drops
On the leaves of poplar and olive trees,
Appearing like a star prostrating before the moon.
**
