Before Bedtime

Sitting in my old armchair By the open loggia door Am I here, or back there Where I’ve been before? In the stilllness of the night Sounds of racing cars Mingle with the distant light Of the faded stars I look out into the dark Little lights around Cannot put on me the mark Of this foreign bound Its a saddest joke, this land Not the thing I own And I clearly understand This is not my home Looking at the trees below See the branches sway “Soon to bed we have to go” Is that what you say?