I have thought of all these things by turns: a flock of sheep leisurely passing by one after one; the sound of rain, and bees murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, smooth fields, white sheets of water and pure sky. Still I lie sleepless. Soon I must hear the melodies of small birds, first uttered from my orchard trees, and the first cuckoo’s melancholy cry.
Last night it was like that. Two nights more I lay awake without winning sleep. Sleep, do not run away from me by using some tricks so that I don’t have to pass this night also without sleep. Without you the morning’s wealth is nothing. You are the barrier between day and day. You are the dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health.