Holy sleep, do not so seldom bring happiness to the night’s beloved in this earthly labour of the day.
NovalisWhat is it that wells up so suddenly and menacingly under my heart, swallowing the soft air of melancholy? Are you pleased with us, dark night? What is it you conceal under your mantle, that grabs invisibly and powerfully at my soul? A rich balm drips off your fingers from a bundle of poppies. You raise up the heavy wings of the soul – darkly and inexpressibly we are moved. I see an earnest face startled with joy – softly and reverently it inclines toward me, and under endlessly entangled locks
appears the cherished face of our Mother. How poor and childish the light seems to me now − how welcome and
blessed is the day’s departure.
But even more heavenly than the flashing
stars are those infinite eyes which the night opens within us, and which see further even than the palest of those
innumerable hosts.
And now I awaken, for I am both yours and mine.
NovalisLight had its allotted time; but timeless and infinite is the reign of the night − the duration of sleep eternal.
Novalishe who has tasted it, who has stood at the watershed of this world and looked across into the new land, into the dwelling of the night − truly, he will never return to the labours of the world, to the land where the light is housed in ceaseless unrest.
NovalisWhat delights, what pleasures does your life offer you that outweigh the raptures of death?
Novalis« ; premier précédent
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