Evening Prayer

Poem by Théodore Agrippa D'Aubigné Period 16th century

In the thick of the funeral shadows,
Amid the dark night, image of death,
Star of our spirits, be the North Star,
Torch of our darkness.

Deliver us from vain lies
And from the illusions of the weak in faith:
Let the body sleep in peace, let the spirit watch for you,
So as not to watch over dreams.

The body rests in patience,
Let cold fear and pressing sorrow sleep:
If the eye is closed in peace, let it be closed like it,
The eye of conscience.

Do not suffer in our breasts
The starts of the wicked slumbering in dread,
Who are covered with lead, and bend in fear
Over a pillow of thorns.

those who sing your praises
Your face is their heaven, their pillow your bosom,
Sheltered by your hands, the curtains around them
Are the camp of your angels.

Théodore Agrippa d’Aubigné

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

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