Soft the dove-hued shadows mingle,
Color fades, sound droops to sleep.
Life and motion melt to darkness
Swaying murmurs far and deep.
But the night moth’s languid flitting
Stirs the air invisibly:
Oh, the hour of wordless longing;
I in all, and all in me.
Twilight—tranquil, brooding twilight,
Course through me, serene and smooth;
Quiet, languid, fragrant twilight,
Flood all depths, all sorrows soothe,
Every sense in dark and cooling
Self-forgetfulness immerse,—
Grant that I may taste extinction
In the dreaming universe.
Quote: Fyodor Tyutchev, from Twilight; (Translated by Avrahm Yarmolinsky). Written in 1835.
Photo: DK @ Twilight. 5:45 am September 12, 2021. 67° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.
with thanks to David Kanigan
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