Rondel

It's dark, child, snatcher of sparks!
No more are there nights, days are no more;
Sleep . . . waiting for everyone to come
Who said: Never I Who told you: Forever!

Do you hear their steps? . . . How far away they are:
Oh, the delicate tread I -Love has wings ...
It's dark, child, snatcher of sparks!

Do you hear their voices? . . . Coffins have no ears.
Sleep: They weigh but little, all your immortal Howers;
Nor will they be coming, your friends the bears,*
To tumble their cobblestone over your fair ones...
It's dark, child, snatcher of sparks!