Outside the Certosa

The dead are saying: “Blessed are ye who walk along the hillsides
Flooded with the warm rays of the golden sun.

“Cool murmur the waters through flowery slopes descending.
Singing are the birds to the verdure, singing the leaves to the
wind.

“For you are smiling the flowers ever new on the earth;
For you smile the stars, the flowers eternal of heaven.”

The dead are saying: “Gather the flowers, for they too pass away;
Adore the stars, for they pass never away.

“Rotted away are the garlands that lay around our damp skulls.
Roses place ye around the tresses golden and black.

“Down here it is cold. We are alone. Oh, love ye the sun!
Shine, constant star of Love, on the life which passes away!”