A Translation

This was fun - "translating" a poem I don't know, written in a language I don't know. (day 16 prompt)

The poem in Italian:
Ecco mormorar l'onde
Torquato Tasso
  (1544-1595)

Ecco mormorar l'onde,
E tremolar le fronde
A l'aura mattutina, e gli arboscelli,
E sovra i verdi rami i vaghi augelli
Cantar soavemente,
E rider l'Oriente;
Ecco già l'alba appare,
E si specchia nel mare,
E rasserena il cielo,
E le campagne imperla il dolce gelo,
E gli alti monti indora:
O bella e vaga Aurora,
L'aura è tua messaggera, e tu de l'aura
Ch'ogni arso cor ristaura.


My "translation"
In The Land Of The Mountain Echoes

In the land of the mountain echoes
I find him trembling.
Marble surrounds him,but the glass beckons.
The sovereign vermin rage against the angels
Chanting, singing
"He's the rider of the Orient!"
Echoes appear in his mind
And he can speak no more.
He runs through the caves.
Through the Imperial Campaigns he has become docile
And glad of the mounting adoration.
The bells of the Aurora are vanquished
and he is surrounded by the messengers, their thoughts surround him too
"Choose art or forever sleep!"

and what it actually means.....

Now the waves murmur
And the boughs and the shrubs tremble
in the morning
breeze,
And on the green branches the pleasant birds
Sing softly
And
the east smiles;
Now dawn already appears
And mirrors herself in the
sea,
And makes the sky serene,
And the gentle frost impearls the
fields
And gilds the high mountains:
O beautiful and gracious
Aurora,
The breeze is your messenger, and you the breeze's
Which revives
each burnt-out heart.