Night.

Rising stars
living of pure light,
souls of diamonds,
silence of far tombs.
A thick forest of empty
separates mothers and children.

Sky's filled by nothing.
Here's the moon,
noble girl,
of eternal secrets
white vestal,
crossing the pitch.

Oh, infinite dance
forbidden to the mortals,
sounds of life,
cold of death.
Everything knows
but nothing tells us

the Night.