Part One: Prelude

Darkness, darkness, burning in flames
In the forests of the night
Vast flowery paths, fresh branches,
Woods full of perfumes, birds and whispers,
A place often seen again, and always contemplated
Wind that gurgles in the bottom of chimneys that months, hours and days...

To the windows that a beautiful clear ray wants to stain,
So many rays that will arrive too late!
crowned
With joy and flowers, in the wheat.
Wind that gurgles in the bottom of chimneys that months, hours and years....

The moon, the sun, the sky and the stars
There, lowing groups of great oxen with somber eyes
So that, immersed in their sweetness and their prayer
Clearer and more well-tempered, they are returned.
To those who see them naked and without veils,
The moon, the sun, the sky and the stars!

Part Two: Prayer

Darkness, darkness, burning brightness
In the forests of the night
And the mad impulse of that troubled soul,
And that had, the brow encircled in copper, under the moon

O mysterious death, O sister of charity.
What soul should be carried in this ancient forest
That goes, climbing the mountains, to the sky, to the storm,
Great night! Sanctuary of August secrets
Ancestor of the ancient sea and forest

Fragile herbs, ten
branches, hollyhocks,
And the shadow that brushes and the wind that ties knots,
And strongly, with the fists of its clouds,
On the greenish horizon, crushes suns.