 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
I enter darkened temples, I perform a humble rite. There I await the Beautiful Lady In the glimmering icon light. In the shadow of a pillar base I shiver at the creak of the doors. And only a brightly lit image, a dream, Of Her stares me in the face. O, I am familiar with these rizas Of the majestic Eternal Wife! High up along the cornices run Smiles, fairy-tales and dreams. O, Holy Lady, how the candles are gentle, How Your features comfort me! I hear neither sighing nor speaking, But I believe: the Beloved is Thee. |
| 25 October 1902 |
© 1995-2007
Lynn Harvey