37
While my comrade sleeps moaning and groaning –
sleep helps him even if it too brings stress –
in me insomnia revives weariness,
and pride makes it an almost pleasant thing.
It’s no surprise if my mind is staying
alert, and sometimes is sleepless.
These are new people, snoring as they rest.
I am old, so old it’s frightening.
I feel I’ve existed so many years
perhaps I was on Abraham’s migration.
Perhaps I was Faust, and loved Margarete.
I tired my limbs today with conscripts here.
But didn’t I live with other men and gods?
Did my eyes not see every period?