The sun and the moon appear in the sky
when every veil from you falls away,
the fabric of the clothes evaporates, obscene,
unworthy ghost, driven out from the scene
by the sunbeams of the early morning:
of you remains only the work, pure,
joyously created by the Nature,
whose flag wildly flutters, here and there,
distilled in the very clear air
by this autumn, so loved and fair