Nocturne

Silence of the night , a sad, nocturnal

silence--Why does my soul tremble so?

I hear the humming of my blood,

and a soft storm passes through my brain.

Insomnia! Not to be able to sleep, and yet

to dream. I am the autospecimen

of spiritual dissection, the auto-Hamlet!

To dilute my sadness

in the wine of the night

in the marvelous crystal of the dark--

And I ask myself: When will the dawn come?

Someone has closed a door--

Someone has walked past--

The clock has rung three--If only it were She!--