MAKE me thy poet, O Night, veiled Night!
There are some who have sat speechless for ages in thy shadow; let me utter
their songs.
Take me up on thy chariot without wheels, running noiselessly from world to
world, thou queen in the palace of time, thou darkly beautiful!
Many a questioning mind has stealthily entered thy courtyard and roamed
through thy lampless house seeking for answers.
From many a heart, pierced with the arrow of joy from the hands of the
Unknown, have burst forth glad chants, shaking the darkness to
its foundation.
Those wakeful souls gaze in the starlight in wonder at the treasure they
have suddenly found.
Make me their poet, O Night, the poet of thy fathomless silence.