Oh, God, if you were not in times
The powerful Father
We would be humble brushwood
On a big darkness sea

Oh, God, if you were not the light
From the miracle skyline
We would be forever the ruin
That was leavened at random

Oh, God, if you were not a sea
Of charming waves
We would be an addition
That failed on the nooks

Oh, God, if you were not the coast
Of the previous dreams
We would be here the ache
Of the uncertain consequence

Oh, God, if you were not the garden
Of the blues happiness
We would be shadows on the curtain
Of the glitter of the stars

Oh, God, if you were not the usher
Of the trues of the dreams
We would be here the absurd
Of the infinite space

Oh, God, if were not the source
Of the waves of the destiny
We would be always the nightmare
Of the heathen remembers.

Oh, God, if you were not the hope
Of the earthling dreams
We would be always the usage
Of the bawdy happening

Oh, God, if you were not the fire
Of the stars brightness
We would be here the error
Of the rebel disarray

Oh, God, if you were not the way
That brings us to the immortality
We would always be the opinion
Of a collapsing dream

Mihail Buricea