Every time when the loneliness' twisting your soul
with her dark icy blade, my beloved,
think of me, of my eyes, of my voice and my call.
Do you know?
I am million centuries old,
many thousands of miles far away,
but in your heart true love's melting tenderly all
dimensions, all times and all spaces.
We will meet where the sun is caressing thin flowers,
in the deep of the forest who still loves the wind.
On the shores of the Lost land from many forgotten
you'll be dew on the leaves, I'll be clear mountain spring.
Just don't fear the storms, they are deeply instable,
they are feeding with darkness, you are child of the stars.
Take a spark of my love, light a candle and maybe
we will pass through the gates, reunited in One.
Св. Исаак Сирин (7 век)
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