Tristan monologue (Act 3) — Tristan and Isolda: Opera in Three Acts

Think'st thou thus! I know 'tis not so, but this I cannot tell thee. Where I awoke ne'er I was, but where I wandered I can indeed not tell thee. The sun I could not see, nor country fair, nor people; but what I saw I can indeed not tell thee. It was-- the land from which I once came and whither I return: the endless realm of earthly night. One thing only there possessed me: blank, unending, all-oblivion.-- How faded all forebodings! O wistful goadings!-- Thus I call the thoughts that all t'ward light of day have press'd me. What only yet doth rest me, the love-pains that possess'd me, from blissful death's affright now drive me toward the light, which, deceitful, bright and golden, round thee, Isolda, shines. Accursed day with cruel glow! Must thou ever wake my woe? Must thy light be burning ever, e'en by night our hearts to sever? Ah, my fairest, sweetest, rarest! When wilt thou-- when, ah, when-- let the torchlight dwindle, that so my bliss may kindle? The light, how long it glows! When will the house repose?