Ximruccilim
Silvertongue
On nights when the rain falls, on nights when the snow falls,
On nights when the sky is clear,
Through each second of dark I wait in whole heart
For the one that I hold so dear.
She’ll have come by the dawn when I’m tired and worn,
Before loneliness kills all light,
To bring joy on my soul and to make me so whole,
And illuminate this bare night.
O, there’s joy on these nights when the dark’s in such might,
And the people may blessed be,
For all over the land there’s a joyous day planned,
And my dear one I hope to see.
On nights when the wind blows, on nights when a star glows,
And on nights when the moon is wide,
On nights when a candle doth guard thee from vandals,
And when sound is thine only guide,
In the shadows so great, I continue to wait
With an ardour that can’t be crushed,
So great is its power, that shines through the hours,
For the one that will make night lush.
O, such lushness on nights, when the moon’s at its height,
And to sweet sleep so many succumb,
For in dreams they run far under watch of the stars,
And my dearest I hope will come.
On nights when a wolf howls, on nights when a beast prowls,
And on nights when there’s silence hung,
On nights when there’s chatter, and on wind leaves are scattered,
O, on nights when sweet odes are sung,
On nights when shades stir, and so much doth occur,
And nefarious deeds are done,
In the alcoves and bays, though so tired, I stay,
For the rise of my heart’s one sun.
O, so vibrant are nights, though the sun’s taken flight,
And the brands only dimly burn,
For there’s in them such spirit, though you can’t see or hear it.
For my sweetest I strongly yearn.
On nights when we wander, on nights when one ponders,
On nights when it’s hot or cold,
On nights when it’s brumous, thus hiding rank humus,
On the nights when great tales are told,
Ah, on nights that are fresh, when our hearts are enmeshed
‘Twixt the matters of death and birth,
Blazing with strength and zest, O, with which I’m so blessed,
She’ll come and she’ll fill me with mirth.
O, such mirth on these nights, whether pure or in blight,
As in shadow I lurk and rave,
For the time will go on till we’ll slumber as one.
For my sweetheart I fiercely crave!
On nights when the rain falls, on nights when the snow falls,
And on every night there could be,
As the shadows doth cycle yet all life remains vital,
And the mind be in dole or glee,
While traitors doth plot and the past lies forgot,
And tranquil the dark is here,
Ere the morning sun’s rising, and the day’s true devising,
I wait for the one held dear.
Thus good is the night. Against languor I fight.
‘Twill be worth it. She will come soon.
For this, I’m devoted. May this ever be noted.
For his dear love this poet croons.
On nights when the sky is clear,
Through each second of dark I wait in whole heart
For the one that I hold so dear.
She’ll have come by the dawn when I’m tired and worn,
Before loneliness kills all light,
To bring joy on my soul and to make me so whole,
And illuminate this bare night.
O, there’s joy on these nights when the dark’s in such might,
And the people may blessed be,
For all over the land there’s a joyous day planned,
And my dear one I hope to see.
On nights when the wind blows, on nights when a star glows,
And on nights when the moon is wide,
On nights when a candle doth guard thee from vandals,
And when sound is thine only guide,
In the shadows so great, I continue to wait
With an ardour that can’t be crushed,
So great is its power, that shines through the hours,
For the one that will make night lush.
O, such lushness on nights, when the moon’s at its height,
And to sweet sleep so many succumb,
For in dreams they run far under watch of the stars,
And my dearest I hope will come.
On nights when a wolf howls, on nights when a beast prowls,
And on nights when there’s silence hung,
On nights when there’s chatter, and on wind leaves are scattered,
O, on nights when sweet odes are sung,
On nights when shades stir, and so much doth occur,
And nefarious deeds are done,
In the alcoves and bays, though so tired, I stay,
For the rise of my heart’s one sun.
O, so vibrant are nights, though the sun’s taken flight,
And the brands only dimly burn,
For there’s in them such spirit, though you can’t see or hear it.
For my sweetest I strongly yearn.
On nights when we wander, on nights when one ponders,
On nights when it’s hot or cold,
On nights when it’s brumous, thus hiding rank humus,
On the nights when great tales are told,
Ah, on nights that are fresh, when our hearts are enmeshed
‘Twixt the matters of death and birth,
Blazing with strength and zest, O, with which I’m so blessed,
She’ll come and she’ll fill me with mirth.
O, such mirth on these nights, whether pure or in blight,
As in shadow I lurk and rave,
For the time will go on till we’ll slumber as one.
For my sweetheart I fiercely crave!
On nights when the rain falls, on nights when the snow falls,
And on every night there could be,
As the shadows doth cycle yet all life remains vital,
And the mind be in dole or glee,
While traitors doth plot and the past lies forgot,
And tranquil the dark is here,
Ere the morning sun’s rising, and the day’s true devising,
I wait for the one held dear.
Thus good is the night. Against languor I fight.
‘Twill be worth it. She will come soon.
For this, I’m devoted. May this ever be noted.
For his dear love this poet croons.