In the land of perpetual twilight
A flock of birds whirled in endless circles,
Their songs, sad wistful waves
Rushing to crash against the horizon’s walls.
Where have you been, old heart?
The house of life has missed your shout
And the roads which your feet once tread
Now bloom with flowers at your dreamer’s touch.
The maidens from whose gaze your eyes fled
Now call you back pouring mirth and wine,
Close and warm their white cheeks glisten
And bid your lover’s lips to drink and write.
Through the thickening night your passage unfurled
Dawn’s rays scattered like blue flowers,
In fields of light the flock of birds gathered,
Their songs exalted waves of birth.