I Am Going To Sleep

Teeth of flowers, hairnet of dew,
hands of herbs, you, perfect wet nurse,
prepare the earthly sheets for me
and the down quilt of weeded moss.

I am going to sleep, my nurse, put me to bed.
Set a lamp at my headboard;
a constellation; whatever you like;
all are good: lower it a bit.

Leave me alone: you hear the buds breaking through . . .
a celestial foot rocks you from above
and a bird traces a pattern for you

so you'll forget . . . Thank you. Oh, one request:
if he telephones again
tell him not to keep trying for I have left . . .

by Alfonsina Storni

Comments (10)

Her life is worth to be put into a movie or documentary.
Leave me alone: you hear the buds breaking through... a celestial foot rocks you from above and a bird traces a pattern for you....my 'God so very poetic...... thank u dear poetess. tony
What a beautiful poem. How she gives herself, without ease, into the caring hands of nature and the earth is stunning. This poem could be such a comfort to those faced with their mortality. The first few lines read like a spell or an incantation. Beautiful.
She has reached the end of her journey and is calm about returning to the earth from which she was created. She is an example of one who does go gentle into the night there being not a trace of fear shown here.
Sleep, the final one, from which there is no awakening... until the resurrection! A beautiful poem. Shame on the 29 voters who have only rated this poem as 4.9 out of ten. It deserves much higher than that!
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