Evening Prayer - Poem by Karin Boye
No time is like this one,
the evening's final, silent hour.
No sorrows burn any longer,
no voices crowd any more.
Then take now into your hands
this day that is past, like a token.
For I know: into good you will turn
what I have held or broken.
Evilly I think, evilly I act,
but all things you heal and cleanse.
My days then you transform
From gravel to precious stones.
You must lift, you must carry,
I can only leave all things behind.
Take me, lead me, be close to me!
Show me what you next may intend!
Comments about Evening Prayer by Karin Boye
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You