«All is sold, all betrayed, all is looted; / Death’s black wing has flashed past in its flight. / All is gnawed by a hungering sorrow, — / Why shines there for us such a light? By day the town breathes scent of cherries / From an orchard that none can espy; / By night glitter new const...»
«You are far off, stranger mine, / Yet to you I raise my cry; / In the clouds the candles shine. / Escort through the crimson sky. O my stranger, quickly stare / To the right with shining gaze; / For a crafty dragon here / Is my master many days. And the dragon in his den / Shows no r...»
«“Enough ! for beauty is not needed. / The sordid world’s not worth a song. / Grow dim, O Tasso’s lamp ! Unheeded / Lie, Homer, friend for centuries long! “And revolution is not needed; / Its armies dissipate and fade. / It has one crown for which it pleaded, / It has one liberty...»
«Wild wind batters / Window-panes, / And hinged shutters / Rudely strains. Hour of Mass on Easter mom, / Bells far distant, bells forlorn, / Deafness, darkness everywhere; / Only guest, a wind in scorn / Batters on the barrier. Through the window — void and black; / In the darknes...»