One sad voice has its nest among the ruins of the years.
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The song feels the infinite in the air, the picture in the earth,
the poem in the air and the earth;
For its words have meaning that walks and music that soars.
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To-night there is a stir among the palm leaves, a swell in the sea, Full Moon, like the heart throb of the world.
From what unknown sky hast thou carried in thy silence the aching secret of love?
Y el paso del tiempo repercute en todo menos en el corazón, porque los sentimientos puros, aunque sea el odio más frío, son atemporales, por mucho que joda saberlo...
Blogged at 1:01