In the evening, in the hours of the divine
  serene twilight,
The spaces are populated by darkness
  and souls by dreams.

Over a background of nacreous tones
  the silouette of the temple
The high walls of the ancient garden
  and the black trees,
Whose branches are like lace
  moved by the wind
The stand out darkly, melancholy
  like a strange spectre!

In these hours of solemn calm
  thoughts wander
And seek from the shadow of the unknown
  peace and silence.
Adored faces are remembered
  Those of the beloved dead
That sleep forever in the sepulchre
  And that we have not seen for so long.

They come down over the things of life
  the shadows of the eternal
And souls set out on their journey
  to the land of memory.
We also go crossing slowly
  through the desert of life
Also in the frozen abyss of the sepulchre
  later we will sleep.

In the evening, in the hours of the divine
  serene twilight
The spaces are populated by darkness
  and souls by dreams!