I Know This Night

I know this night; it was there last year when the wind rustled restless leaves. I know this night when some old parents wept, ten years ago, forlorn, deserted by their kids. I know this night when heads rolled in a river of blood centuries ago; It was some holy cause that some thought served their invented spirits. I know this night when a damsel sang her pains to indifferent stars in the autumn of an unknown age. This night was always there, singing full-throated, moon, stars or rain; let me sing the pains everybody's and mine. Singing is all that matters; life is a ceaseless strain. No more does it matter which night did we sing for time is a useless aide when it is the heart that pains. Night sings alone alone, alone and alone.