He knocks at your window, the Sun, and says: "Arise, beautiful, for it is time to love. I bring you the wishes of the violets and the hymns of the roses when they wake up.

From my splendid Kingdom I bring you in homage to the servants of April and May and the New Year who delays his flight on the flower of your graceful and serene youth.

He knocks at your door, the wind, and says: "By the mountains and the plains, I have travelled so much. There is today on earth only one concert, and of the living and the dead only one song.

Here is the reminder of the nests and the green woods. Time is returning: "Love, love, love, love! And Here is the sigh of the graves reflowering. Time passes: Love, Love, Love.

She knocks at your heart which is a beautiful garden in bloom, my thought, and says: "Can we come in? I am sad and old traveller, and I am tired, and I would like to rest.

I would like to rest among these beautiful flowers, dreaming of a good that never was, I would like to rest in this beneficent joy dreaming of a good that never will be.

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