RIMA XLIII

I put aside the light and sat down
on the edge of my unmade bed,
silent, somber, my eyes fixed
            motionlessly on the wall.

How long did it last? I don’t know: at last,
when the horrible drunkenness of pain left me,
the light had gone out, and on my balcony
            the sun was shining.

Nor, during that terrible time, do I know
what I was thinking, or what was happening;
all I remember is that I cried and I cursed,
and that on that night, I grew older.