EVENING

The flame of the fast-fading sunset
has scattered its sparks ’cross the sky. 
The radiant sea is transparent;
the dissonant clanging of cart bells 
along the seaside highway falls silent. 

The ringing songs of the muleteers 
lose their way in the thick forest.
In the limpid fog a noisy seagull 
flittered and disappeared.

The white sea-foam rocks to and fro 
by the grey rocky shore,
like a sleeping child in a cradle.

Like pearls, the fresh drops of dew 
hang on the leaves of the chestnut tree; 
and in every droplet there shimmers 
the flame of the fast-fading sunset.