To us is given to stress,

in perfected voice and in song, the

"death vanished", and this who could tell,

a few hours ago, when teared was

the firmament and the cherubim frowned.

No, we won't leave too, one by one,

this world won't darken in all,

we won't retreat to the Cypress woods.

Σὲ μᾶς λαχαίνει νὰ τονίζουμε

μὲ γεγονυῖα φωνὴ κι' ἀσματικὰ τὸ

"θάνατος φροῦδος ὤφθη", καὶ ποιός θὰ τόλεγε,

λίγες ὧρες πρωτύτερα, τότε ποὺ σχίζετο

τὸ Καταπέτασμα καὶ τὰ Ξαφτέρυγα συνοφρυοῦντο.

Ὄχι, δὲ φεύγουμε κι' ἐμεῖς, ἕνας ἕνας,

δὲ θὰ μαυρίσει ὁ κόσμος τοῦτος ὁλοτελῶς,

δὲ θ' ἀποτραβηχθοῦμε στοὺς Κυπαρισσῶνες.