| What we don’t know how to explain we call “mysticism”
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| The truth was cooling in the stills
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| One day all of us will be called
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| I saw the pier! |
| Saw! |
| I whisper furiously.
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| What we don’t know how to explain we call “mysticism”
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| The truth was cooling in the stills
|
| One day all of us will be called
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| He is! |
| He is! |
| I whisper furiously
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| On the windows of the lattice, crouching finishes the slop
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| Cold floor, cold air and cold sweat
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| The walls are covered in letters and numbers.
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| Here are those who are waiting for death
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| And those whom she is waiting for
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| - Paracelsus, get ready! - the guard shouted at the door
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| - In half an hour they will judge you, beast
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| And someone, deep in the crypt
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| In the semi-darkness, half-light, he smiled and quietly said:
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| -Now.
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| Through the vaults of labyrinths, corridors - straight to the court
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| People in robes, hoods, common people
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| They read the rules, the code of laws, beat in the chest
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| They spat in the face, beat with rods - they broke the rod
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| - Known as "Paracelsus", you will be burned at the stake tomorrow!
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| - You have been found guilty of witchcraft by the Inquisition!
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| He fixed his gaze on the one who was saying:
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| -Who are you?
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| -Servant of God!
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| Well, I guess God is disappointed.
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| What we don’t know how to explain we call “mysticism”
|
| The truth was cooling in the stills
|
| One day all of us will be called
|
| I saw the pier! |
| Saw! |
| I whisper furiously.
|
| What we don’t know how to explain we call “mysticism”
|
| The truth was cooling in the stills
|
| One day all of us will be called
|
| He is! |
| He is! |
| I whisper furiously
|
| They lit a fire, read the sentence again
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| The mob crawled out of the holes into the square, despite the sea
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| - Renounce the demons, I conjure for the last time!
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| -Unfortunately, I don’t know him - then your friends.
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| lit
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| A crowd of onlookers noted how bright his face was
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| And how far was the fear, not a single cry
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| Burned out with a smile on his lips
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| - To know that was a sign! - they decided, - He was definitely a witcher!
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| On a dark night, in the darkest hour before dawn
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| Noticed a sentry in the square - a heretic was lurking
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| He carefully collected the ashes, he shouted at him,
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| But the wind raised the dust, the dust settled.
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| The heretic is gone
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| Dejectedly the horse trudged under the gloomy sky
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| And the rider pressed the urn to his chest like a mother to the child of Saturn
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| - Teacher!, - he whispered, - I believed!
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| A month later they saw that Paracelsus was treating children in distant Greece
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| What we don’t know how to explain we call “mysticism”
|
| The truth was cooling in the stills
|
| One day all of us will be called
|
| I saw the pier! |
| Saw! |
| I whisper furiously.
|
| What we don’t know how to explain we call “mysticism”
|
| The truth was cooling in the stills
|
| One day all of us will be called
|
| He is! |
| He is! |
| I whisper furiously |