On the hill,
where it still grabs on the night,
the sweet violence
advances of the dawn.
It opens the curtain
On the Venetian east,
and to the colours of water
made light,
he surrenders Collalto,
last rampart of the obscurity;
and me, humble hoarfrost
among the stubbles,
loosening me I revive.
Sulla collina,
dove s’aggrappa ancora la notte,
la dolce violenza
avanza dell’aurora.
S’apre il sipario
Sul veneziano oriente,
e ai colori d’acqua
fatti luce,
s’arrende Collalto,
ultimo baluardo dell’oscurità;
ed io, umile brina
fra le stoppie,
sciogliendomi risorgo.