Now that day has exhausted me
I give myself over, a tired child,
to my old friends, the stars–
my watchful guardians, quiet and mild.
Night gathered itself about the large bay window so that the baked brown roofs might merge with the purple above, and the world feel small and close once more.
There was blanket across her knees. A few escaping threads, wiry grey and cobalt blue, tickled her palms. Fingers of knotted bark curved to meet each other but never quite touched.
Hands–let everything go.
Head–stop thinking.
I am content to follow
where my senses are sinking.
In the stillness of her body and the stillness of her eyes, in the sterile yellow of the bulb above her head, the walls moved away. She shrank slowly, till she was very much alone.
Into the darkness, I swim out free:
Soul, released from all your defences,
enter the magic, sidereal circle
where the gathering of souls commences.
Shutting her eyes, she watched the thousand golden silhouettes that moved about her. Listened to the echoes of their laughter, the dancing of their feet, a glittering rain in the darkness.
The line of buttons down her shirt, perfect and white, moved slowly up and down. Only those that knew her very well would have noticed the smile hidden in the corners of her mouth and the mottled folds around her eyes.
The words in italics are those of Herman Hesse’s Time To Sleep, which Strauss took as the lyrics for the third of his Four Last Songs.
All four songs deal with death, but unlike so many works of art on the topic, they show the calm and peaceful end that is the reward of a life lived with love and belonging.
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