You ancient mighty warrior
that dwells in our hypothalamus!
You that lays your heavy hands
like Ghana pepper upon our brows!
Jekyll and Hyde are you;
Mighty too are you
when you cause sweet sleep on us,
sweetness we can nev’r help
ev’n when we ought to rise
to struggle for living!
You are an old English soldier,
the great conqueror of our weak flesh!
You conquer’d Adam in Eden
to produce the moth’r of all living;
You defeat’d the eyes of the three Christian pillars
while their Mast’r was away
to answ’r the suff’ring call of Jerusalem.
You are the provocateur of rest
when the day is spent and dead;
like the Grim Reap’rs, you steal us away,
finding ourselves in the world below and above
aft’r our bodies’ souls have judgment fac’d
before the Holy One.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem