On the far horizon is depicted,
With its trees and groves around it there,
You can fancy that those stones grow living,
And, amid the darkness of the night,
Change to lovely songs, to which the spirit,
Dreaming, listens with a vague delight.
Have you ever seen that wondrous building
Whose white shadows in the blue wave sleep?
There Carrara sent vast mounds of marble,
And Propontis, beauty of the deep.