Theodore Stephanides
Insomnia
With old age I have come to hate the night,
For owing to the glow of London's skies,
I cannot see the stars, once my delight,
That soothed me until slumber closed my eyes.
In that past time the hours knew shorter flight
Before sleep sought the couch on which I lay;
Light were my dreams, and soon the morning light
Aroused me gently to a newer day.
But now the dark seems endless... When I look
For comfort to the stars, the are not there —
The skies show only that accursed red glare!

Then I take from the shelf another book
On which I can no longer concentrate...
Till once more I turn off the lamp... and wait...

(from "Autumn Gleanings: Corfu Memoirs and Poems")