I have come to the borders of sleep,
The Unfathomable deep,
Forest where all must lose,
Their way however straight,
o winding, soon o late;
They cannot chose.

Many a road and track,
That since the dawn's first crack,
Up to the forest brink,
Deceived the travellers,
Suddenly now blurs,
And in they sink.

Here Amore ends,
Despair, ambition ends,
All pleasure and all trouble,
Although most sweet o bitter,
Here ends in sleep that is sweeter,
Than tasks most noble.

There is not any book,
o face of dearest look,
That I would not turn from now,
To go into the unknown,
I must enter and leave alone,
I know not how...

The tall forest towers,
It's cloudy foliage lowers,
Ahead shelf above shelf,
It's silence I hear and obey,
That I may lose my way,
And myslef.



By; Edward Thomas