I’m in the days’ embracing limits,
Where even skies are ever gray,
Look through the ages, live in minutes,
And wait for Holy Saturday;

The end of soul’s aimless travels,
Of lucks and troubles peaceful end.
O, come, my day when I’ll be able
To Know, See and Understand.

My soul will be so new and broad,
All, that’s alluring, will be mine.
And I will bless the golden road,
From blind worm and to golden sun.

And he, who went with me wherever,
Trough thunders and the silent peace,
He, who was kind to me in fever,
And cruel when I stayed in bliss;

Who taught me to a wisdom whole,
To fight, reserve, or overcome,
Will turn to me, and leave his pole,
And simply tell me, “We have come.”