Nocturne (Silence of the night)


Ruben Dario

Silence of the night, a sad, nocturnal

silence—why does my soul tremble like this?

I hear the humming of my blood,

and a soft storm passes through my brain.

Insomnia! To be unable to sleep, and yet

to dream. I am the autospecimen

of spiritual dissection, the auto-Hamlet!

To dilute my sorrow

in the wine of the night

in the marvelous crystal of the dark—

And I ask myself: When will dawn come?

Someone has closed a door—

Someone has walked past—

The clock has struck three—If only it were her!—

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