In the fatigue of  mournful hoplessness,
In the unrest of a  noisy restless world,
Echoed in me your tender voice
And your dear features in my dreams.

The years passed. The rebellious gusts of the storm
Scattered the previous dreams,
And I forgot your tender voice,
Your heavenly features.

In the loneliness, in the gloom of excile
stretched quietly my days
Without divinity, without inspiration,
Without tears, without life, without love.

My soul began to awaken:
And lo again you appeared,
Like a passing vision,
Like a spirit of pure beauty.

And my heart is beating in ecstacy,
And once more for it is born anew
Divinity, and inspiration,
And life, and tears, and love.