Nearer to the wall I carry this torch of fire,
from beastly growths of toppled weeds to open meadows;
Its flame creates a lightning rod of strength,
and from the earth our time streams fiercely as it glows.

When will we encounter sweet seasons flying high above ?
(the question speaks more of anger than of sorrow)--
When walls close in and crush the ancient flow,
our fleeting days will search for new tomorrows.

With profound compassion and mercy heaven sends,
a prophet with another torch to lead;
Yet somehow in the darkness I relent,
and wander off to find the open sea.

Then gathering all the rivers to follow me,
wraiths float among the wild and challenging the winds;
How solemn the lonely nights ahead appear,
filling clouds with sights and sounds of angels' wings.