Translation:Diego Fallón

It is the time when the dead rise While the world of the living sleeps, In which the soul abandons the fragile body And dreams of that which is holy and that which is infinite.

.............................................

The moon pours out silver-plated rays That reflect the waves in the river And that illuminate, with its vague dyes The frightful remains of a Castle. Everything is silence there, though at another time There was bustling and enthusiastic happiness... But look! They are vaporous shadows Those that in the dark forest slide. Oh! Don't fear, they're not frightening Ghosts of other times — they are water spirits; Look at how they embrace and confuse How swift they turn through the air, They barely touch with a lithe foot The soft-surfaced meadow. They're advancing...spinning in the denseness Or submerging themselves in the pure waves; And to the time of music like a distant chorde that A lyre makes They rise up, pushed by the light Breeze that caresses their hair... But be quiet...with its first dyes The new day illuminates the horizon And the shadows disappear on erasing themselves From the forest among the humid mists.

Diego Fallón