The Cloister - Clepsydra

The open archways sound of loneliness

The yellow walls colour your shadows

The shouting brains echoes in the square

Forbidden ground draws the eyes

A pace sounds like heavy clogs on the floor

The columns are moisten with scoring hans sweat

The wooden ceiling is a weigh for my mind

The light tries hard to reach the inner side

From time to time the bell reminds you seclusion

They tech you an open mind on that closed court

Centuries have gone but the days still have to come

The smell of the chalk goes into your skin

The stained-glass windows that point at the sky

Are not so fragile as the age in which I live…

… the age of glass

The stained-glass windows that point at the sky

Are not so fragile as the age in which I live…

… the age of glass