Night Allen Ginsberg

The sun descending in the West
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest
And I must seek for mine
The moon, like a flower
In heaven’s high bower
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night

Farewell, green fields and happy groves
Where flocks have took delight
Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen, thеy pour blessing
And joy without ceasing
On each bud and blossom
And еach sleeping bosom

They look in every thoughtless nest
Where birds are covered warm;
They visit caves of every beast
To keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping
They pour sleep on their head
And sit down by their bed