At night you sleep,
I suffer from insomnia.
Watching you sleep—
that makes me suffer.
Your eyes are closed, your large body stretched out,
something about it feels absurd—but it makes me cry.
And then suddenly, you laugh,
laugh loudly in your sleep.
But where are you now, I wonder?
Where have you really gone?
Maybe with another girl,
far away in another place,
and you laugh with her—you laugh at me.
At night you sleep,
I suffer from insomnia.
Watching you sleep—
that makes me suffer.
When you sleep, I no longer know if you love me,
so close, yet so far.
I press my naked body against yours,
but it’s as if you’re not even there.
Still, I hear your heart beating,
but I don’t know if it beats for me.
I know nothing anymore.
I wish your heart would stop beating
if one day you stop loving me.
At night, you dream and sleep—
I suffer from insomnia.
Watching you dream
makes me suffer.
Each night I cry all night long,
and you keep dreaming and laughing.
But this can’t go on forever—
surely one night I will kill you.
Then even your dreams will come to an end.
And since I’ll kill myself too,
my insomnia will end as well.
And our corpses, together,
will sleep at last in our big bed.
At night you dream,
I suffer from insomnia.
Watching you dream
makes me cry.
Dawn breaks and you wake up at once.
Now you laugh at me,
laugh with the sun,
and I forget about the night.
And you say those same words again:
“Did you sleep well?”
And I, like every other day, reply:
“Yes, my love. I slept peacefully.
I dreamed of you, like every night.”
