Hidden in the mountains.
How I miss your warmth.
Of worldly cares, there's no account.
You are in another place.
Your perfume of frankenscence and evergreen.
As the mist upon your breast.
Creates in my soul an otherworldly scene.
Your devoted spirit caress.
See what I've created! Such a mess.
I am truly as I have always been.
Unpurified and poorly enlightened.
Still you welcome me a prodigal,
So as not to be frightened.
They can only guide one to your heart.
Where the nave displays the window to the other world.
Our King and his Mother Theotokos.
Can be seen there.
Lo' for I haven't a clean gown.
Fit to be in such magnificent splendors.
How shall I return to you?
O Abbey, keep your doors open to me.
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