Anonymous Translation. Ippolito Pindemonte, 1753–1828.
EVENING.
FROM THE PORTUGUESE OF CAMOENS.
Silent and cool, now freshening breezes blow
Where groves of chestnut crown yon shadowy steep,
And all around the tears of evening weep
For closing day, whose vast orb, westering slow,
Flings o’er the embattled clouds a mellower glow;
While pens of folded herds, and murmuring deep,
And falling rills, such gentle cadence keep,