You named the wrong country,
You're going on a long journey.
We desperately accompanied,
And has led many to breathe.
Winter has crept imperceptibly,
And with the first snow of the yard
You took all the ardor of a cherished,
Which we lived yesterday.
goodbye, we look at the way,
A blizzard sweeps trail.
We will come back slowly
To the atheist sloth of previous years,
And on the mystical puzzle
We will no longer be cast,
And late at night, standing furtively,
When the pale month dream.
28 June 1901