Anton Antonovich Delvig

1798-1831 / Russia

Ah, You Night...

Ah, you night, you little night!
Ah, you night, you stormy night!
Why from early evening tide
Even to the midnight late
Twinkle not your little stars,
Shineth not your full-orbed moon?
You are veiled with darkling clouds!
'T is with you, I think, O night,
Even as with me, young man,
Villain grief has called on us!
When the dire one takes abode
Somewhere deep within the heart,
You forget the lasses fair,
Dances and obeisances;
You forget from evening tide
Even to the midnight late,
Singing songs, to take delight
In the chorus and the dance.
No, you sob, you weep aloud,
And, a sad and lonely lad,
You upon your coarse straw bed
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