Lonesome Night


Hermann Hesse

You brothers, who are mine,

Poor people, near and far,

Longing for every star,

Dream of relief from pain,

You, stumbling dumb

At night, as pale stars break,

Lift your thin hands for some

Hope, and suffer, and wake,

Poor muddling commonplace,

You sailors who must live

Unstarred by hopelessness,

We share a single face.

Give me my welcome back.


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