Over their backs they let the turtles slip,
Those humped captives at basin’s edge aground,
Within they dive and freely splash and dip,
Forget their fear, crawl torpidly around;

The adolescent boys dance on each head
Of snub-nosed monster. Wondrous pranksters they.
Those goggle-eyed gargoyles beneath their tread
From rounded jaws are spouting powdery spray.

The four of them, on dolphins romping, play.
Now on their shins of bronze, on their bronze backs,
Sparkles the greenly rippling laugh of day,
And in this languor, indolently lax,

I catch an echo of your cheering folly,
Echo, Lorenzo, of your melancholy.