The night is nearly spent waiting for him in vain.
I fear lest in the morning he suddenly come to my door when I have fallen asleep wearied out.
Oh friends, leave the way open to him---forbid him not.
If the sounds of his steps does not wake me, do not try to rouse me, I pray.
I wish not to be called from my sleep by the clamorous choir of birds, by the riot of wind at the festival of morning light.
Let me sleep undisturbed
even if my lord comes of a sudden to my door.
Ah, my sleep, precious sleep,
which only waits for his touch to vanish.
Ah, my closed eyes
that would open their lids
only to the light of his smile
when he stands before me
like a dream emerging from darkness of sleep.
Let him appear before my sight
as the first of all lights and all forms
The first thrill of joy to my awakened soul
let it come from his glance
And let my return to myself be immediate return to him
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