Must morning always come again?

Must morning always come again?

Will the might of the mundane never end?

Will accursed bustle consume

the heavenly approach of night?

Will love's secret sacrifice never burn eternally?

Light had their time measured out -

but timeless and limitless is the night's dominion;

eternal is the duration of that Sleep.

Sacred sleep! Do not cheer too seldom

those dedicated to night in this earthly day's task.

Only fools will mistake you, and know of no sleep

but the shadow that in that twilight

of veritable night you mercifully

cast over us. They do not feel you

in the golden flood of grapes,

in the almond trees' wondrous oil,

and in the brown nectar of poppies.

They know not that it is you

hovering about the bosom of the tender maiden,

making her lap Heaven;

they do not suspect that from old stories

you will emerge, opening up the heavens,

bearing the key to the abode of the blessed;

infinite secrets of a silent messenger.