Not seeking glory or riches grand,
I will not kneel, I'll always stand,
I am the branch left unbroken, unbent,
I am the prophecy from dreamer's heights sent,
I am the glimmer in awoken one's eyes,
I am the soul that in your sheets lies.
When you raise hands and embrace the bright dome,
I am the rush which through your veins roam,
Of deepest feelings, eluding sight,
I am the voice that always is right.
Do not seek me in cold surface mist,
I am in depths, by essence kissed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem