The Land of Nod

Robert Louis Stevenson(1850–1894)

1885

FROM breakfast on through all the dayAt home among my friends I stay;But every night I go abroadAfar into the land of Nod.

All by myself I have to go,With none to tell me what to do—All alone beside the streamsAnd up the mountain-sides of dreams.

The strangest things are there for me,Both things to eat and things to see,And many frightening sights abroadTill morning in the land of Nod.

Try as I like to find the way,I never can get back by day,Nor can remember plain and clearThe curious music that I hear.

De A Child's Garden of Verses (1885), a partir de la transcripción de Wikisource en inglés.

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