Charles Chaplin / After the ball 
although I do not hope to come back although I do not hope
although I do not hope to go back
Wavering between the profit and loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
Dusk by cross dreams between birth and death
(Bless me father) though not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
white wings still fly to the sea, seaward flying Unbroken wings
And the lost heart it strengthens and enlivens
the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
and fragile spirit quickens to rebel For the bent
gold bullion and the smell of the lost sea
set out to find
The cry of quail and the plover rotating
And the blind eye creates The empty forms between the ivory gates And smell renews
the salty taste of the sandy earth This is the time
tension between death and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross each
Among blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the tree will start
rate than the other rate to be shaken and reply.
Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
not allow you
mock ourselves with falsehood Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still
even among these rocks, En
his will è nostra pace
E anche fra queste rocce
Sorella, madre
Spirito del fiume, spirito del mare,
Non sopportare che io sia separato
E Te giunga il mio grido.
**********
Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn
Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore The white sails stili
although I do not hope to come back although I do not hope although I do not hope to go back
Wavering between the profit and loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
Dusk by cross dreams between birth and death
(Bless me father) though not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
white wings still fly to the sea, seaward flying Unbroken wings
And the lost heart it strengthens and enlivens
the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
and fragile spirit quickens to rebel For the bent
gold bullion and the smell of the lost sea
set out to find
The cry of quail and the plover rotating
And the blind eye creates The empty forms between the ivory gates And smell renews
the salty taste of the sandy earth This is the time
tension between death and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross each
Among blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the tree will start
rate than the other rate to be shaken and reply.
Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
not allow you
mock ourselves with falsehood Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still
even among these rocks, En
his will è nostra pace
E anche fra queste rocce
Sorella, madre
Spirito del fiume, spirito del mare,
Non sopportare che io sia separato
E Te giunga il mio grido.
**********
Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn
Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore The white sails stili
fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings
And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smeli
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling piover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth
This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.
Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves
with falsehood Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still
Even Among These Rocks
Our peace in His will And even
Among
These rocks Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea ,
Suffer me not to be separated And let my cry
like unto Thee.
Unbroken wings
And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smeli
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling piover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth
This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.
Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves
with falsehood Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still
Even Among These Rocks
Our peace in His will And even
Among
These rocks Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea ,
Suffer me not to be separated And let my cry
like unto Thee.
(1930)
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