« The sun is always smiling,
Since it rises from the east
To illuminate the world.
Until its chariot descends into the waves,
The mist of fog does not veil the skies;
Every morning a gentle wind
Pulling away all the clouds:
Thus our days are never overcast;
And, in the depths of winter,
Our fields are clothed
In flowers and evergreen trees.
The streams respect their banks,
And their fleeting naiads
Without leaving their native beds,
Wander peacefully and are not captive
Under a crystal prison.
All our birds sing as usual,
Their throats not being frozen;
And not being forced
To hide or be silent,
They make love freely.
Winter as in summer.
Finally, when night has spread its veils,
The moon, with a changing countenance,
Appears on a silver throne,
And holds a circle with the stars,
The sky is always clear as long as its course lasts,
And we have nights more beautiful than your days. » (Jean Racine)
DantéBéa 