In the temple of a patient god


You chose exile in rain-drenched mountains.

You stayed in the house of a patient god
and were adorned with grace.

What do we need with temples? I said –
this is just a place. 

Make the human soul the sacred space;
rain, the rootless river, remembered
from god and childhood.



You chose exile in rain-swept mountains.

It all leads to the void – 
the beauty of delusion and 
the peace of pain. 

As for you, you observed 
the serenity of primroses, and wept. 
Drifted off in his arms, as if you didn't exist.

A journey shall be made to the mountains.
We can ask god to send us
a human: a sign.

Let's listen to that music again.
Return to the place where we're still making love.

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