Song from the Highest Tower
Sabaoth
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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!
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So the green field, to oblivion falls, overgrown, flowering
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