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Sabaoth
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Song from the Highest Tower
Let it come, let it come! The season we can love!
I have waited so long,
that at length I forget
and leave unto heaven
my fear and regret
a sick thirst
darkens my veins.
Let it come, let it come! The season we can love!
So the green field, to oblivion falls, overgrown, flowering,
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with incense and weeds and the cruel noise of dirty flies.
Let it come, let it come! The season we can love!
I loved the desert, burnt orchards
tired old shops, warm drinks.
I dragged myself through stinking alleys
and with my eyes closed
I offered myself to the sun
the god of fire
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