Fill my cup with emptiness, let silent notes play throughout the night,
Make my bed of moonbeams bless’d, and I shall wed the harlot night.
O maiden moon, it had been said before
Thou with the sun was wed, thou knewest night.
But I who am just now traveling by,
Have known both night and day, and day and night.
Was not the darkest hour that never shined
Bereft of moon and wine — but never night?
Bright then the hour the virgin moon deflowered
Glistens with mystic wine throughout the night.
Because when the first veil is lift there births
A nightingale song to the flippant night.
And I, who would tear the veil and much worse
To hear that sublime song, await that night.