High atop the mountain peaks

The Englishman gives the gypsy

a glass of tepid milk

Or the green wind will catch you!

The sea darkens and roars,

where the English consul lives.

and berets down over their brow.

The starless silence, fleeing

on an invisible bagpipe.

Precosia, run, Precosia!

The f九*九*藏*书*网lutes of darkness sound,

and arbors of greening pine.

and a shot of Holland gin

which Precosia does not drink.

of the English consulate.

Precosia throws the tambourine

And while she tells them, weeping,

And gypsies of the water

for their pleasure erect

Precosia comes.

Playing her pa99lib.netrchment moon

Gypsy, let me lift your skirt

the wind furiously gnashes

The wind sees her and rises,

Naked Saint Christopher swells,

and have a look at you.

Playing her parchment moon

against the slate roof tiles.

the sentinels are weeping;

the wind t九*九*藏*书*网hat never slumbers.

Precosia, filled with fear,

A satyr of low-born stars

Open in my ancient fingers

Precosia comes

with tongues of celestial bells

three riflemen come running,

his night filled with silvery swarms.

little castles of conch shells

Alarmed by the anguished cries,

and runs away i

九_九_藏_书_网

n terror.

while the olive trees turn pale.

from her rhythmic tambourine,

of her strange adventure,

But the virile wind pursues her

along a watery path of laurels and crystal lights.

their black capes tightly drawn,

with their long and glistening tongues.

beyond the tall green pines

Precosia, run,九九藏书网 Precosia!

watching the girl as he plays

falls where the sea whips and sings,

the blue rose of your womb.

And look how fast he comes!

and a muted gong of the snow.

they guard the tall white towers

now makes her way to that house

with his breathing and burning sword.