There’s nothing more serene than a road at night

Being devoured by forests and blue.

All is calm; all is silent.

The whole world is floating to nowhere land

On this nocturnal ride.


And all things that move, all things that live,

All things that die, and churn up, and soothe

Are obscured by the blue.

In this foreign kingdom,

Night is all that matters,

Dark refuge:


Wide as the universe, indifferent and wild,

A ferocious infinity like the sea to a pearl,

Like the vastness of cosmos to this coy little world.

What miracles might be happening

That I’ll never see, never hear?


Therefore I sleep,

And drift along onwards instead,

Never moving at all.

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