I do not want to remain part of the broken mirror,With the stained glass that time corrodes,I want fixed panes, bronze frames,And part of the treasure chanted like spears.
I want no key before the great gate of the soul,Its call is stronger than the play of April,Urged on by faith in the sacred formula,I seek an unspoken love that is worthy.
How are we to find the glittering colours of the soul,Especially that clear blue as it shines,So the sun may look down without holding back,To cast upon our bodies a light of paradise?
