Paroles de Impressions -la Fruite de La Lune

to outer senses there is peace a dreamy peace on either hand deep silence in the shadowy land deep silence where the shadows cease save for a cry that echoes shrill from some lone bird disconsolate a corncrake calling to its mate the answer from the misty hill and suddenly the moon withdraws her cickle from the lightening skies and to her sombre cavern flies wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze