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The breathing of the air,
The song of the sweet nightingale,
The grove and its beauty
In the serene night,
With the flame that consumes, and gives no pains. ~ 39

 

John of the Cross

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Sing, sweet nightingale,
Sing me a song of a night never-ending,
Sing, sweet nightingale,
And I'll try to pretend
That tomorrow's nowhere near
And there's nothing to fear.

 

Tom Springfield

 

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still,
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill,
And naught but the nightingale’s song in the grove.

 

James Beattie

 

I am not the light, I am the night; but a flame stabs through my entrails and consumes me. I am the night devoured by light.

 

Nikos Kazantzakis

 

There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,
And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;
In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream,
To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.

 

Thomas Moore

 

Grove of Tuoni, grove of night!
There thy bed of sand is light.
Thither my baby I lead.
Mirth and joy each long hour yields
In the Prince of Tuoni's fields
Tending the Tuonela cattle.
Mirth and joy my babe will know,
Lulled to sleep at evening glow
By the pale Tuonela maiden.
Surely joy hours will hold,
Lying in thy cot of gold,
Hearing the nightjar singing.
Grove of Tuoni, grove of peace!
There all strife and passion cease.
Distant the treacherous world.

 

Aleksis Kivi