The stars in their heavens
Nestle in velvet;
A mother puts her baby to bed
She tucks him in as the moon
Watches over him:
Plants a kiss on his head
The birds slumber quietly
In their nests of twig;
An angel makes the moon her bed
Trees curl although they
Are windbent;
Their silence is of the dead
Flowers furl their petals
Conserve beauty
For day when they shine in beds
Every creature settles down
They rest eagerly;
The moonlit sky sighs instead
Over me as I wander now
Aimless and restless;
I tumble through my head
If I do not deserve sleep
Cannot find it;
Then Lord I'd rather be dead.