Night Comes On is a 1984 song by Leonard Cohen.
Night Comes On
Leonard Cohen
I went down to the place where I knew she lay waiting
Under the marble and the snow
I said, "Mother I'm frightened, the thunder and the lightning
I'll never come through this alone"
She said, "I'll be with you, my shawl wrapped around you
My hand on your head when you go"
And the night came on, it was very calm
I wanted the night to go on and on
But she said, "Go back, go back to the world"
We were fighting in Egypt when they signed this agreement
That nobody else had to die
There was this terrible sound, my father went down
With a terrible wound in his side
He said, "Try to go on, take my books, take my gun
Remember, my son, how they lied"
And the night comes on, it's very calm
I'd like to pretend that my father was wrong
But you don't want to lie, not to the young
We were locked in this kitchen, I took to religion
And I wondered how long she would stay
I needed so much to have nothing to touch
I've always been greedy that way
But my son and my daughter climbed out of the water
Crying, "Papa, you promised to play"
And they lead me away to the great surprise
It's "Papa, don't peek, Papa, cover your eyes"
And they hide, they hide in the world
Now I look for her always, I'm lost in this calling
I'm tied to the threads of some prayer
Saying, "When will she summon me, when will she come to me
What must I do to prepare?"
When she bends to my longing like a willow, like a fountain
She stands in the luminous air
And the night comes on, it's very calm
I lie in her arms, she says, "When I'm gone
I'll be yours, yours for a song"
Now the crickets are singing, the vesper bells ringing
The cat's curled asleep in his chair
I'll go down to Bill's Bar, I can make it that far
And I'll see if my friends are still there
Yes, and here's to the few who forgive what you do
And the fewer who don't even care
And the night comes on, it's very calm
I want to cross over, I want to go home
But she says, "Go back, go back to the world"
The First Stanza
In the first stanza, we see a middle-aged man visiting the grave of his mother. In the reality of the moment, he becomes a frightened, motherless child, but at the same time he deeply feels a connection with his mother. She is always there, always protective.
It seems impossible to him – the crushing sadness, the cumulative loses, the personal failures, and the greater disappointment in humanity.
But his mother spirit insists that he persevere….
And the night came on, it was very calm
I wanted the night to go on and on
But she said, “Go back, go back to the world”
The Third Stanza
We were locked in this kitchen, I took to religion
And I wondered how long she would stay
I needed so much to have nothing to touch
I’ve always been greedy that way
But my son and my daughter climbed out of the water
Crying, “Papa, you promised to play”
And they lead me away to the great surprise
It’s “Papa, don’t peek, Papa, cover your eyes”
And they hide, they hide in the world
This is a very touching stanza. The man, bound in the trappings of domesticity, looks to religion to find meaning and comfort. He worries about the stability and permanence of his situation: “I wondered how long she would stay.”
He’s torn between his own need for introspection and quiet reflection with the demands of his family:
I needed so much / to have nothing to touch / I’ve always been greedy that way”.
But his young children, a son and a daughter, bring him back into the moment. Forget your grown-up cares! You don’t have to worry about those things. Come play with us!
But my son and my daughter climbed out of the water
Crying, “Papa, you promised to play”
But again, this is a fleeting moment, and all too quickly the children are grown:
And they lead me away to the great surprise
It’s “Papa, don’t peek, Papa, cover your eyes”
And they hide, they hide in the world
The children find comfort and playfulness even in the world that may seem overwhelming to adults. Their call for their father to fulfill his promise to play suggests the way children naturally pull adults out of their worries and into their world of simplicity and joy.
The Fifth Stanza
In the last stanza of “Night Comes On”, I see an old man. He hobbles to the bar to meet his friends. He’s resigned to his fate. The other bar patrons are also old men. He expresses humility when he says “And the fewer who don’t even care”. He realizes that all humans go through trauma but must keep persevering.
Now the crickets are singing, the vesper bells ringing
The cat’s curled asleep in his chair
I’ll go down to Bill’s Bar, I can make it that far
And I’ll see if my friends are still there
Yes, and here’s to the few who forgive what you do
And the fewer who don’t even care
The cat curled up asleep adds to the sense of domestic tranquility. This imagery contrasts with the man’s inner journey, which is less about peace and more about a quiet resignation to life’s final chapter.
I’ll go down to Bill’s Bar, I can make it that far / And I’ll see if my friends are still there
Hobbling down to Bill’s Bar, the man wishes to continue connecting with his friends, even as his strength wanes. The bar, a familiar and comforting place, represents one of the last remaining joys in his life. There’s a sense of hope that his friends will still be there, indicating the importance of human connection, especially in the twilight years.
“Yes, and here’s to the few who forgive what you do / And the fewer who don’t even care”
These lines express a deep humility. The man acknowledges that not everyone will forgive his actions, and even fewer will care enough to hold a grudge. It’s a recognition of the imperfections in life and relationships, yet there’s a toast to those few who still offer forgiveness, underscoring the value of understanding and compassion in a world often indifferent to individual struggles.
