The sun has gone — its final glow
Still calls goodnight from cloud to cloud.
I’m not yet sleepy — the day was bright,
Perhaps the moon will sing to me, right?
So faithful and true — my companion so pure,
Its gentle night‑light softly guides me through,
And tells me a tale — be it old or new,
And somehow this way it all feels so cool.
My eyelids grow heavy — goodnight, busy day,
Perhaps we will meet again in fey.
The moon is my friend, watching over my sleep,
Now quickly we drift into slumber so deep.