Now that day wearies me,
my yearning desire
will receive more kindly,
like a tired child, the starry night.

Hands, leave off your deeds,
mind, forget all thoughts;
all of my forces
yearn only to sink into sleep.

And my soul, unguarded,
would soar on widespread wings,
to live in night’s magical sphere
more profoundly, more variously.

Hermann Hesse