Light, oh where is the light! Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. The night is black as a black stone. Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.

The night kisses the fading day whispering to his ear, “I am death, your mother. I am to give you fresh birth.

Someone spilled the ink on the canvas. Now boasts: "I painted the night".

Night's darkness is the bag that bursts with the gold of the dawn.