The dawn
With its festal complexion
Again anticipates the same settlement,

The similar compromise
That I have each day.
Again with the soft early beams

I sponge soil from my face –
The residue of the woeful night–
To mirror the smiling world,

Thus I smile, each day.
Thence I enlist — camouflaged–
In the world’s meaningless clamor

Till the subsiding sun
Rolls the lights off
And collapses;

Till time has gathered
The remains of the festivity. I laugh
Till the last laughters falter.

Then nursed by the accustomed hands
Of general sorrow, the pregnant Night
Is delivered of my soul–

The unpretentious soul–
And returns like a faithful friend
The entrusted cries,

The unfinished sobs.
I sob, I cry and halt till
When in the late drowsy hours,

Your name I recall
How tears in my eyes gather afresh
And noiselessly fall.