CiTR

Now is the time when trembling on its stem /
Each flower fades away like incense /
Sounds and scents turn in the evening air /
A melancholy waltz, a soft and giddy dizziness /

Each flower fades away like incense /
The violin thrills like a tortured heart /
A melancholy waltz, a soft and giddy dizziness /
The sky is sad and beautiful like some great resting-place. /

The violin thrills like a tortured heart, /
A tender heart, hating the wide black void. /
The sky is sad and beautiful like some great resting-place /
The sun drowns itself in its own clotting blood /

A tender heart, hating the wide black void, /
Gathers all trace from the pellucid past. /
The sun drowns itself in clotting blood. /
Like the Host shines O your memory in me