Insomnia
(Note: the soul in this poem is referred to as ‘she’.)
My soul is, in the heart of night,
disturbed, defeated. It’s outside,
outside of her her life goes on.
She waits for the unlikely dawn.
And I, within her, or beside,
wake, and am worried, and am worn.
Translated by D. M. Black
Page(s) 28
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