All those men’s statues on the church walls
Which are all in their historical costumes,
Who knows, they may be getting a heavenly rest.
In their time, how they were humanely great
Or against other faiths how fanatically small.
Before your eyes, true or lies,
History, mystery, non-stop blink
If you are a believer or not,
You will sink in it.
Those godly people make you amazed;
Willy-nilly you will come face to face,
Which makes you think a while about the Lord.
Even life has meaning if you follow their mystical accord.
At least something, better than nothing,
Even you might see the Holy King.
You might become a sleeping saint
If you don’t wake up by pinching yourself.
In that dream if you don’t faint
Possibilities are endless for the searching one,
Talking about a serious thing, not just for fun,
It is a last destination, from which no one can run.