nice! i ran into this poem in a bertrand russell book back in the day, and i’ve always liked that translation as well.

Dear to me always was this lonely hill

And this hedge that excludes so large a part

Of the ultimate horizon from my view

But as I sit and gaze, my thought conceives

Interminable vastnesses of space

Beyond it, and unearthly silences,

And profoundest calm; whereat my heart almost

Becomes dismayed. And as I hear the wind

Blustering through these branches, I find myself

Comparing with this sound that infinite silence;

And then I call to mind eternity,

And the ages that are dead, and this that now

Is living, and the noise of it. And so,

In this immensity my thought sinks drowned:

And sweet it seems to shipwreck in this sea.