My 2 daughters
In the cool chiaroscuro of the charming night that falls,
One like a swan, the other like a dove,
Beautiful, and both joys, o sweetness!
See, the big sister and the little sister
Are seated at the foot of the garden, and on them
A bouquet of white carnations with long fragile stems,
In a marble urn, shaken by the wind,
Lean to look at them, immobile and alive,
And shake in the shadow, and seem at vase’s edge,
A flight of butterflies frozen in ecstasy.