Domine, Tu Quercu Es... Poem by Aleksandra Szymanska

There's only one place you can really hide
and feel free, feel the air of life on your skin.
It's a different dimension, so colourful and wide;
in the middle there grows a gigantic tree...

There, existence is made of air molecules so ancient
which paint eternal roots, branches, leaves, every acorn.
Everybody's role is to grow their own patience
and make it last on the tree trunk - the invincible stone...

And like a sculpture looks the tree bark, so golden, so bright,
and the sculptor's name is the Spirit of Flame.
Every shape has been carved by the holy light,
and the tree burns in life, blooms in Eden's rain...

The earthly crown of the tree is no longer made of thorns -
they have been transformed into planets and stars,
and the King of the Universe His own firewall grows
in the mirror of the souls free from any scars...