It was an afternoon of this summer,
While I neither woke nor slept,
I was taking my noonday rest, as is my pleasure,
My head touching the ground at ease.
The ghostly moon is unwinding wool.
Afar off is heard the gurgling water shaking the clapper behind the mill.
The ghostly moon is unwinding flax.
[16] When the slaughter is over, when the wolf and the buzzard have gnawed the bones, the flaming sun scatters merrily the hurtful vapors and the battlefield soon becomes green once more.
After the long trampling of the Turks and Russians, thou, too, art seen thus reborn, O nation of Trajan, like the shining star coming forth from the dark eclipse, with the youth of a maiden of fifteen.
And the Latin races, in thy silvery speech, have recognized the honor that lay in thy blood; and calling thee sister, the Romance Provence sends thee, Roumania, an olive branch.
[17] See Revue de Paris, 15 avril, 1898.
[18] The present work was completed in manuscript before the reception of Welter's book.