Now those days arrive when, stem throbbing,
    each flower sheds its fragrance like a censer:
    sounds and scents twine in the evening air:
    languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!


    Each flower sheds its fragrance like a censer:
    the violin quivers, a heart that�s suffering:
    languorous dizziness, Melancholy dancing!
    the sky is lovely, sad like a huge altar.


    The violin quivers, a heart that�s suffering:
    a heart, hating the vast black void, so tender!
    the sky is lovely, sad like a huge altar:
    the sun is drowned, in its own blood congealing.


    A heart, hating the vast black void, so tender:
    each trace of the luminous past it�s gathering!
    The sun is drowned, in its own blood congealing
    A vessel of the host, your memory shines there.