MIDNIGHT.
[363]Friedrich Rückert
trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869
At dead of night
Sleep took her flight.
I gazed abroad, no star of all the crowds the clouds
That people heaven, was smiling through
To cheer my sight
That dreary night.
At dead of night
I scaled the height
Of giddy question o'er our mortal lot;
My searchings found no answer, brought me not
One ray of light
In that deep night.
At dead of night
In still affright
I turned and listened to my throbbing heart;
One pulse of pain alone, whose ancient smart
Had dimmed sweet light,
Beat there that night.
At dead of night
I fought the fight
Humanity, of all thy pain and woes;
My strength could not decide it, and my foes
O'erwhelmed me quite
At dead of night.
At dead of night
All power and might
I yielded, Lord of life and death, to Thee,
And learnt Thou watchedst with me, and that we
Are in Thy sight
In deepest night!