Here is the hour when every flower, trembling,
On its stem like a dancer, releases its scent;
Perfume and sounds blend softly in the air—
A melancholic waltz, a faint, enchanted spinning.
On its stem like a dancer, it releases its scent;
The violin quivers like a soul, desire-disturbed;
A melancholic waltz, a faint, enchanted spinning!
The sky is beautiful, like an eternal resting.
The violin quivers like a soul—desire-disturbed,
A soul that hates the Void as if it were hell!
The sky is beautiful, like an eternal resting,
Now the whole sun grows dim, blood-twisted and still.
A soul that hates the Void as if it were hell
Keeps the bright, alluring past alive in yearning.
Now the whole sun grows dim, blood-twisted and still…
Your memory shines like a chalice—ever burning!
