The curtain on the stage is rolling back
with slow and stately pace,
the structure of the scene begins to form,
each actor and each dancer lifts its face
as light begins to pierce the gloomy black,
like ventures after storm.
The sun, the audience, begins to view
the play that on this stage is taking place;
it every day is improvised anew
upon this stage that whirls in empty space.
The act that is the morning slowly builds
as sunlight gilds
the actions and the characters below,
new plots and themes will interlace,
new dramas and new spectacles will race,
today as fresh as newly fallen snow.