参考翻译
And when the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry,as with a veil,and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky,and the tall chimneys become campanili,and the warehouses are palaces in the night,and the whole city hangs in the heavens,and fairy-land is begore us-then the wayfarer hastens home;the working man and the cultured one,the wise man and the one of pleasure,cease to understand,as they have ceased to see,and nature,who,for once,has sung in tune,sings her exquisite song to the artist alone,her son and her master-her son in that he loves her,her master in that he know her.