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Last Night as I was Sleeping: An inspiring poem about listening at the edge of the great silence by the beloved Spanish poet Antonio Machado.

Antonio Machado was an inspiring Spanish poet of the early 20th century.  He encountered staggering personal loss during his lifetime and during the Spanish Civil War.  HIs mode of working with that loss and meeting life was to practice the art of poetry.   He became  one of the world’s most beloved poets of that era.

This poem, Last Night as I was Sleeping, is an expression of the consequences of meeting life without the distractions that hijack our hearts and minds.  He expresses what emerges in sleep and dreams for him and it seems to me parallel to our experience as we continue to offer an attentive contemplative practice or meditation practice over time.

As we settle onto that edge between distraction and presence we discover something like he describes, “My soul is not asleep.  It neither sleeps nor dreams, but is wide awake . . . and listens at the edge of the great silence.”

Here is my reading of his poem and below is the text.  The original is in Spanish and hopefully the intent comes through well in this English version.  I hope it will be helpful as you continue to practice.

 

Last Night as I was Sleeping

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt a marvelous illusion
that there was a spring was breaking out in my heart.
I asked along what secret aqueduct,
are you coming to me,
oh water, water of a new life
I have never drunk?

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt a blessed illusion
that there was a beehive
here in my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt a blessed illusion
there was a fiery sun here in my heart.
It was fiery because it gave
warmth as if from a hearth,
and it was a sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night as I slept,
I dreamt a blessed illusion
that there was God
here in my heart.

And then later in another writing Antonio Machado reflected on this poem continued reflecting on what emerged in his dreams at the edge of losing the experience he found in the poem.

“God, is my soul asleep?
Have the beehives of my dreams
stopped working, has the waterwheel
of my mind run dry, gone empty?
is there only shadow inside?

No, no my soul is not asleep.
It is awake, wide awake.
It neither sleeps nor dreams—
but watches with clear eyes
far off things, and listens at the shores of great silence”