Whenever a voluptuous moon,
radiantly brimful, looms low
and gilds the tops of the trees,
The hills, the sprightly streams,
the languorously reclining lakes,
She appears to me from nowhere
Like a dream,
Like a flash of inspiration
to a muddled mind.

My Muse glides gracefully toward me
like an elusive wreath of smoke
and gathers me in her embrace
like a silken robe,
hovering around me
like the perfume of roses.

She appears as a stirring
source of fantasy and vision,
Like the magnificent Northern lights
displaying luminous draperies
on a star-spangled polar nights,
Like the spectacular rainbow burst
after an intense shower,
Like a shooting star,
Like a blessed apparition;

I take her
as one would a reluctant bride
with gentle persuasion
and resilient arms!