Suddenly
we hear a voice.
Far away, up above.

It is a space stiff, arrogant hands
will never be able to touch.
A radiance
snow and white nights can never get near to.

In the gloomy soul
it has been planted, dazzling.
It is a shining metal thread
someone plucks from the heart.

Only a god
could open its lips on this
dismal night.
Only a god
could make people stuck fast in sickness
feel moved.

Light:
those who have lost their legs
will all pursue it, gliding away
while those who cannot see the lamplight
reach out their hands
joining with it to become a sparkling ray.

What voice is it
what is the name of this god of song
who gently stirs the pain.