Original subtitles

"The thirteenth returns,

she's again the first

And still the only one, or the only moment

For are you queen,

are you the first or the last?

Are you king, are you the only lover or the last?

Love who loved you from the cradle in her grave

She who was my sole love still loves me tenderly

She is death, or dead

O delight, O torment

The rose she holds is the hollyhock

Saint of Naples, your hands filled with flames

Violet-hearted rose,

flower of Saint Gudula

Have you found your cross in heaven's wastes?

White roses, fall

You insult our gods

Fall, white phantoms, from your scorching skies

The saint of the abyss is more saintly to my eyes."

"But you who were born in an age malign

For the evil of caves Sibylline

Who speak of a mortal

according to whom From the calyxes of my robes

shall come Aroma of fierce delights

The shimmer of my nude, white body

Prophesy that if summer

Before which instinctively woman goes bare

Sees me in my modesty trembling like a star

I die!

I love the horror of virginity

The dread my tresses give me when I lie

Retired at night, reptilian on my couch

My useless flesh inviolate to the touch

Feeling cold sparks from your lucidity

You who die, you who burn with chastity

White night of icicles and cruel snow."

"The moon was grieving,

Seraphim in tears

Musing in the calm of vaporous flowers

Were drawing from sad violas Sobbing glissandos

It was the blessed day of your first kiss

My reverie, enraptured by the abyss

Imbibed its wisdom from the sad perfume

Which even the dreams we gather in full bloom

Distill within the heart that gathers them

Thus I wandered, my eyes on the cobbles grown old

When with sunlight in your hair, in the street

In the evening you appeared laughing

And I thought I saw the fairy with the hat of brightness

Who once would pass through my spoiled child's slumbers

Always letting her not-quite-closed hands

Snow down white bouquets of perfumed stars."

"It was the blessed day of your first kiss

My reverie, enraptured by the abyss

Imbibed its wisdom from the sad perfume

Which even the dreams we gather in full bloom

Distill within the heart that gathers them

Thus I wandered, my eyes on the cobbles grown old

When with sunlight in your hair, in the street

In the evening

you appeared laughing

And I thought I saw the fairy with the hat of brightness

Who once would pass through my spoiled child's slumbers

Always letting her not-quite-closed hands

Snow down white bouquets of perfumed stars."