. And I have died, in antiquity, and noone ached for me. Some rejoiced, young as I was, as I bled on the cross, drenched in blood, in agony.
Not a single tear rolled down for me, when they nailed my bones to yew, the dzelats were singing sneeringly. and I was smiling, forgivingly.
In that life so brief, in that cauldron of hell in the tarnished jaws I begged for love with poetry, fruitlessly.
And as I have perished to all I have forgiven, soaring to Third Heaven.
Into the mountains of crimson jade, Barefoot with the angels I stroll, It is raining milk and honey on the squares of the city of gold, just as it did before.
Here, there is no pain and misery, resentment and poverty, fear and sin, by the beautiful streams, sweet fruits are blossoming, here, love is always waiting for you when you come to stay from far, far away.