Beyond my window now horizon fades,

Declining ray atop the colonnades—

The domes, the chimneys, crosses golden-leaved—

Is glistening, burning eyes of the deceived;

And fiery edges of the cloudy veil

Like snakes are sketched as if by pencil’s trail,

And softly breezes through the garden pass

Caressing stems of quivering rain-soaked grass …

Between those stems I spied a little bloom,

As ’twere an eastern pearl amidst the gloom,

And trembling, sparkling droplet from it hung,

Its head inclined, it yet to standing clung,

Just like a mourning girl confronting dole,

Her spirit quenched, her joy departing soul:

Despite her eyes that streamed with angry tears,

Her beauty she’ll recall in coming years.