Molitva

Soft embalmer of still midnight,
shutting with careful fingers and benign,
our gloom-pleased eyes.
Embowered from the light, enshaded in divine.
Oh,Soothest Sleep,if so I please thee,
close in midst of this thine hymn our willing eyes,
or wait the "Amen",
mere thy poppy throws,
around our beds its lulling charity.
Save us,or the passed day will rise.
Upon our pillows, breeding many woes.
Save us out from conscience,
that still lords its strength from darkness,
burrowing like a mole, its strength from darkness.
Hey,God of sleep,hear our call,
we are the chosen ones!
Soft embalmer of still midnight,
shutting with careful fingers our gloomed eyes.
Save us,or the passed day will rise.
Upon our pillows, breeding many woes.
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
seal the hushed caskets of human souls.