When in solemn stillness the silence blossoms,
as the silence of the lambs or the calm of forests.
of trees which appear lifeless, though green,
the winding foliage dense in thickness,
as thick as the blindness of ignorance, or
as dense as the folly of fools, but
can these forests of the hills yet sing for joy,
or is their dumbness a special hallmark,
as dumd dogs which bark not, or as
the canary whose saccharine melody is lost,
in the stumbling shadows of silent trees,
among the small and the sciophilous shrubs, where
there is no exhilaration or vibrant dance?
but lo! above the horizon gleams a light,
for germinating in the soil of wise hearts,
hope pushes its verdant shoot upwards,
as music and melody return to the song,
and the muse inspires the poet his poetry,
and Elysium to the halls of heraldry is restored.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem