Parchment\'s drenched; dragoman\'s
dream of le flamme du cœur
states: „Straighten! Thou dwellest
in stables of night\'s mare!
Though branch thou art broken,
bringest face to my feet;
why, then, praise him divine
– \'tis known – downed with defeat?
Think\'st thou heard I haven\'t
those half-loves, mirrored truths;
or faithful flesh martyred
at feast of beasts and brutes?
Thou ought reform – renounce
the ruin of Baal\'s ways;
place faith in Father\'s Light
– darkness will fade away!
Forth! I\'ll bring thee blessings:
bread unspoil\'d by world\'s mold,
and name – none but thou\'ll know –
nursed by snow-marble stone.
The hour is nigh – hold fast!
Heed the sigh from the sky;
I am judge, and jury –
by just word foes shall die!“