Midnight paranoia, once again is here
it keeps me steadily losing sleep
nightly with me, is the constant fear
that darkness, into my room might creep
Now every night, I must talk myself into sleeping
afterwards, I take to distraction - in whatever form
otherwise over my shoulder, I'd be constantly peeping
with covers up to my neck, I finally ease into a sleep easily torn
For me it's not uncommon, these days
to startle myself awake in panic at midnight
and I know, I am aware, the threat is likely far away
- half imagined - maybe... but that doesn't end my paranoid fright
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I read this poem twice. In my first reading I felt a kind of doom which the precision of language and the rhymes made even more disturbing. But the second reading, following immediately on the first, made me aware of your command of the situation: yes, there is fear but not abject fear, there is constant worry but not bottomless worry. What I found instead was your firm resistance and unwillingness to surrender to paranoia. That means you oppose your courage to this midnight paranoia, and your courage will wear it down.