Harmony of Evening

Here coming is the time when on its stem will blow
Each flower, like a censer, now evaporating.
The sounds and the perfumes turn in the air of evening,
A melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!

Each flower, like a censer, now evaporating,
The violin is quivering like a heart in woe,
A melancholy waltz and languid vertigo!
The sky is sad and lovely, like a great repose.

The violin is quivering like a heart in woe,
A tender heart, which hates vast, black oblivion!
The sky is sad and lovely, like a great repose.
The sun is drowned in its own blood which thickens.

A tender heart which hates vast, black oblivion
Collects all vestiges from bygone luminance!
The sun is drowned in its own blood which thickens…
Your remembrance shone within me like a monstrance!

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