A Piano in the NightA piano in the night
plays softly, off somewhere;
a sigh comes through the air,
borne upon the melody.
It’s one o’clock: the lane
sleeps to the lullaby
of a long ago refrain
of a time that used to be.
God, so many stars above!
Such a moon! And such sweet air!
How I wish that I could hear
someone singing tenderly.
But solitary, slow,
dies the long ago refrain;
darkness deepens as the lane
fades into obscurity.
My soul remains alone,
here at the window, caught,
still awaiting, sunk in thought
and enchanted reverie.
(Translated by Michael Palma)