Look how the night milks
The whole landscape spread infantly,
Like a mother breastfeeding her child gently,
And everything hazy eyed by winy maternal sips,
Vow! O moony night thy motherly lips
Kiss the sleepy panorama; the mother saintly
Strokes everything lying in her lap faintly,
O sleepless mother thy head never trips!
Look how whitish the love bathes the shadows!
Aura such that even ghosts seem friendly,
What fear has to do near love such,
Thus, every soul opens all its windows,
So that mother's light enter grandly,
And still she never finds it too much!
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