LXXIV
TO MY ANGEL

Cover me with your wings, dear angel;
by making a cloud which never passes,
you protect the mind which is burned
by the face of God, as we float down

the river of destiny. Thus, I am sure
that when I return to my Father’s house
and the truth is revealed, I will be free
to see everything much more clearly.

You know, dear angel, that life is short;
although it can also be quite difficult,
and in it the soul is unable to stay close

to its God. So I will wait till I die
to see Him, since only death reveals
the full extent of the Truth.