If the wind murmurs then they seem to hear  
  His voice ; and when night falls, the shadows round  
  Seem the dark foldings of his sweeping robe.  
  At noon, when life sees only the clear sky,  
  Feels only the bright sun, the fated one  
  Whom Death hath called, upon the distance marks  
  The heavy shade so soon to shroud  
  All nature from their eyes.
Translations - From the French











