Act III: “I Am Old and I Cannot Sleep”

I am old and cannot sleep forever
Like the young
Nor hope that death, will be a novelty
But endless, wakefulness
When I put down my work and go to bed

How much of what we did was good?
Everything seems to move beyond out remedy
Come, heal this wound
At this hour nothing can be done

Just before dawn the bird begin
The warblers who prefer the dark
The cages bird answering

To work

Outside this room the chill of grace
Lies heavy on the morning grass