When the silence over my garden
will widely spread at night, rainy
a cloud in the sky it will pave
on a black dome over it divine.
In the secret darkness the trees, the shrubbery,
slowly the head will bow
and they'll chant together reverently
their last prayer of sorrow.
Come and we for one last time
our prayer will say. It will be heard
our voice in the silence passionate,
the dome will resound and break,
the cloud will weep, we along will cry,
the chant of the trees will pursue
in sadness our silent cry
and the darkness will thicken like doom.
Not a star's a glimmer will shine,
destiny's face we will not see,
and while our hands it will bind
our lips the prayer will speak.
Translated from Greek by yours truly.
Image taken from here.