leonardcohenforum.com

1992

The wet street in the rain,
shining with the lights,
and I feel the well-known
deep call that invites
to listen to those absent voices
and to find what's scattered
in the haste of the day.
Now is the expected moment,
the day, the clock and the haste get lost
with their burden of rites.
In the quiet night
everything is free, still, and sundry,
and gradually truths appear.
The night is silence,
and the rain is falling,
gently rocking in the breeze.
In the quiet night
everything is different
yet the same as always,
although you are not in the night anymore.
I don't know where your face is,
if it is lowered,
or if your eyes reflect some glance.
I only know it is night and it rains
and already I am not the same;
but my soul is filled
with knowing your truth
and with this
all truths.