Long after the burgundy sunset, from midnight to one,
Night bird still sits singing, to the dark oblivion.
In a velvet hour's enchantment, so perfect for dreams,
Exotic blooms grace shadows, in the elegant moonbeams!
The mystic midnight hour, long after yellow happiness,
Envelops in dark serenity, the dreamers yet sleepless.
Days and days of endless green, have now become memory,
Like gay painted daisy fields, at the edge of a century!