Ah! tonight, my heart hurt, the heart to the moon!
O Low silence, spread your lagoons;
O roofs, terraces, pools, necklaces loose
Beads, tombs, lilies, cats penalty rent
The Moon, our Mistress at all in its glory
It is the Host! and the silence is the ciborium!
Ah! it is good, oh! well and good, in the halo
Mourning the diamond of the first water!
O Moon, you'll find me romantic,
Why, oh! only occasionally
It would be foolish for me to say, between us,-c 'that
Your Columbus, O Dove, knees?
Well, say no more; and rolling out Office
Of midnights, preserved in alcohol of thy pleasures.
Ralentendo to us, O doleful City,
Cell fibroin to failures organs!
Remember centaurs, dead cities,
Palmyra, and camards Sphinx of Thebes with a hundred
And what Gomorrah under your Lake Lethe doors;
Catacombs to the sterile Astarte!
And how man, with his relatives "I love you"
Is too anthropomorphic beyond itself,
And knows that vivotter comm it hellos
The good nights while arranging with Love.
Ah! I told you a hundred times rather than,
I had the evil heart, the heart good to the Moon.