II A field of stars, thousands shining blue in the sky, seem to pour a radience of life across nature's plane— framed by the silvered clouds that pass above, you are the lord and master of this dormant domain. But why is it that your shimmering and pale rays fail to disperse the black shadows of nightfall? You are the image of hope in a miserable soul; enough to wipe away a few tears, but unable to dry them all.
Juliusz Słowacki (1809-1849) (Translated by Prontobard, 2022)