Nocturne By Ruben Dario


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!–


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