A fluttering flowerbed

Paints symbols, rare embroideries.

God’s blue breath blows

Inside the garden hall,

Cheerfully inside.

A cross towers in wild vines.

Hear the villager’s rejoicing,

The gardener mows by the wall,

Quietly an organ goes,

Mixes sound and golden light,

Sound and light.

Love blesses bread and wine.

Girls also come in

And the cock crows to the last.

Placidly a rotten trellis goes

And in rose wreath and rows,

Rose rows,

Mary rests white and fine.

The beggar there on the ancient stone

Seems to be deceased in prayer,

Softly from the hill a shepherd goes

And an angel in the grove,

Nearby in the grove,

Sings the children to sleep.