So, speak of his greatness, sing of his divine grace. For him, always, whose garment is light and whose covering is like a celestial dome. His furious chariots are those that bring the thunderclouds, and the dark path formed by his steps carves the wings of the storm.
Ah, you stars! Is it not from you that the lover’s desire for his beloved’s form springs? And is it not with your pure light that he illuminates her radiant face?
There are some delicate shadows that manage to escape their creator’s dominion. The night seems so cold and fragile as it is filled by angels who faintly sprinkle everything that breathes. And the factories are illuminated by light. The sound of the bell reaches the heavens. At last, we have met, even if we remain far from each other.
