Rubn Daro — Nocturne 1907

Silence of the night, painful silence, Nocturne... Why does my soul tremble like this? I hear the low hum of my blood. I watch a calm storm pass inside my skull. Insomnia! Not to sleep, and perchance to dream. To be the whole soliloquy of spiritual dissection, my Hamlet-I! To dissolve my sadness in one night's wine, in the marvelous crystal darkness... And then I wonder: When will it be dawn? A door just closed... Someone is passing on the street... The clock strikes three...It must be Her!


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