I loved the quiet light of the golden lamp,
the reverential silence around it...
Full of a secret waiting,
How often would I, having pulled aside the bed drapes, stay awake,
Leaning my hand on the soft down,
and think, think: would my guardian angel this night
come to talk with me in the quiet?
And I dreamed: on the bed, near me
in the unsteady glow of the lamp fire,
He sat dressed in a silver-pale garment.
And whisperingly, quietly I shared with him,
thoughts, comprehensible to the child’s mind,
and desires, comprehensible to the child’s heart.
The tranquility in his rays was sweet to me,
I was fully permeated by his divine force.
With a smile on his burning lips,
he, the light-winged, thoughtfully listened to me.
But his meek eyes were looking into the distance,
they were reading the future in my soul,
and some sadness was reflected in them,
and the angel spoke:
O Child, child, I feel sorry for you!
Child, child, will you understand the words of my sadness?
I did not understand them with my childish soul,
But seized and kissed the fringes of his garment,
with tears of joy glittering in my eyes.