Pain is in this dark room like many speakers
of a costly set though mute
as here the needle and the turning
the night lengthens it is winter
a new year
what I live for I can seldom believe in
who I love I cannot go to
what I hope is always divided
but I say to myself you are not a child now
if the night is long remember your unimportance
sleep
then toward morning I dream of the first words
of books of voyages
sure tellings that did not start by justifying
yet at one time it seems
had taught me
~ W. S. Merwin
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