Déjenme dormir

The night is filled with sounds as the world around us begins to settle into a deep slumber. In the darkness, the once bustling streets are now hushed, with only the occasional passing car breaking the silence. But amidst this quietude, a voice can be heard, softly pleading with the universe to grant some much-needed rest. "Déjenme dormir," it whispers, a plaintive cry for the peace of sleep to wash over the weary soul. This sound is a symphony of exhaustion, a melody of longing for the solace of dreams to come. The whispered plea is soon joined by the gentle rustling of sheets as the body beneath them shifts and turns, seeking the perfect position in which to drift off into the realm of sleep. The sounds of the night are a lullaby, wrapping around the listener like a warm embrace. But amidst this soothing cacophony, the voice persists, each repetition of "Déjenme dormir" a desperate invocation of the Sandman's magic touch. The rhythm of the words is a metronome, marking the passage of time as the night wears on. As the hours pass and the world outside grows still, the sound of "Déjenme dormir" grows in intensity, a crescendo of fatigue and frustration. The voice that utters these words is raw with weariness, each syllable a testament to the longing for repose. The sounds of the night become a chorus, the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of traffic weaving together with the plaintive plea for sleep. It is a symphony of exhaustion, a requiem for the waking world. The darkness of night is broken only by the faint glow of the moon, casting a pale light over the city below. In this nocturnal landscape, the sound of "Déjenme dormir" rings out like a bell tolling in the distance. It is a cry in the wilderness, a plea for respite from the ceaseless demands of the day. The words hang in the air like a benediction, a prayer for the silence of sleep to descend like a blanket over the night. As the night wears on, the voice that intones these words grows hoarse with fatigue, each repetition a burden to be borne. The sounds of the city are a backdrop to this weary monologue, the hum of traffic and the distant wail of sirens mingling with the plaintive plea for rest. It is a cacophony of exhaustion, a symphony of weariness that reverberates through the night like a lament. The sounds of the city are a counterpoint to this solitary voice, a reminder of the ceaseless march of time. Despite the cacophony that surrounds it, the sound of "Déjenme dormir" persists, a refrain that echoes through the night like a siren's call. It is a cry for peace, a plea for respite from the cares of the world. The voice that utters these words is a beacon in the darkness, a solitary figure standing against the tide of night. It is a sound that cuts through the noise of the city like a knife, a reminder of the fragility of the human spirit in the face of endless demands. And so, the night unfolds like a tapestry, each thread woven with the sound of "Déjenme dormir" at its heart. It is a cry for mercy, a plea for rest in a world that never sleeps. The voice that speaks these words is a vessel for all the weariness of the world, a conduit for the exhaustion that weighs heavy on the soul. But amidst the cacophony of the night, there is a moment of stillness, a pause in the symphony of sound. It is a moment of grace, a moment of peace in which the plea for sleep is finally answered. These sounds can be found here: [link to sounds]. Play, download, and let them lull you into a peaceful slumber, where the world fades away and only the sound of "Déjenme dormir" remains. Sleep well, weary traveler, and may your dreams be filled with the sweetest of melodies.