I
The moon, the stars,
Look down indifferently.
While I, with queer old words,
Write praise of them.
II
I live at night.
And all day long I sleep,
In waking consciousness.
The sun appears
Earth blooms with beauty,
While I sleep on
Stirring drowsily at the first shadow.
Then slowly the death sleep leaves.
Night comes on.
I live again.