When I was little, I rose falling,
Ascending a stair, each step falling up,
A magnificent stair, draped in brocade,
He could see me and I him,
When I got there, I had reached the end,
But for all I could see, the world was brimming, was brimming.
Heaven is a dome, impastoed in gold,
Svper Terram etching the rim, and fragile leaves filigreed in.
When I was little, I waited for a benevolent friend, gilded with stories,
I prayed, waiting for him,
Now I think there is no fissure in firmament,
No divorce of earth or clove of lament, only a little boy's dreams, entwined with innocence.
Heaven is a dome, emblazoned in gold,
Te Deum scoring the rim,
Ancient angels filigreed in.
Heaven is a dome, impastoed in gold,
Te Deum scoring the rim,
Ancient angels filigreed in.
Impastoed in gold,
Te Deum scoring the rim,
Svper Terram etching the rim.
