This night is irredeemable. <br />Where you are, it is still bright. <br />At the gates of Jerusalem, <br />a black sun is alight. <br /> <br />The yellow sun is hurting, <br />sleep, baby, sleep. <br />The Jews in the Temple’s burning <br />buried my mother deep. <br /> <br />Without rabbi, without blessing, <br />over her ashes, there, <br />the Jews in the Temple’s burning <br />chanted the prayer. <br /> <br />Over this mother, <br />Israel’s voice was sung. <br />I woke in a glittering cradle, <br />lit by a black sun.<br /><br />Osip Mandelstam<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/this-night-is-irredeemable/
