And what’s then? What’s left?
Maybe the faith that the day'll beep,
That day when the sun pushs cheekily
To windows, disturbing sleep.

That day when there’s no sadness,
When everything’s clear and plain!
That day when the soul is married
To happiness, sprayed with rain.

That day when all the trumpets around
Struck the march, bravura and blessed!
That day when I live the whole time
Just live without any dread.