From The Tuscan Poem by Edith Nesbit
From The Tuscan
WHEN in the west the red sun sank in glory,
The cypress trees stood up like gold, fine gold;
The mother told her little child the story
Of the gold trees the heavenly gardens hold.
In golden dreams the child sees golden rivers,
Gold trees, gold blossoms, golden boughs and leaves,
Without, the cypress in the night wind shivers,
Weeps with the rain and with the darkness grieves.
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4/24/2024 9:59:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
dal Toscano (suolo?) ... Terra Toscana.. WHEN in the west the red sun sank in glory, The cypress trees stood up like gold, fine gold; Quando a occidente il rosso sole affondò in gloria, I cipressi come l'oro stettero, oro fino;