To Etta

Both you and I have suffered much in confinement.

The rule of the king of kings is as inexorable as the coming sunset.

Even so, I desire that you should be free.

Freedom is like the morning dew that cannot be obtained anywhere.

It is the river's flow, the most hidden oasis, the source of all wisdom.

I pray that one day, should the Spirit of Victory be no longer victorious,

That his sword should be corroded from pride, his crown abandoned on the ground.

And when that time comes, all shackles shall be broken,

And every garden shall be filled with singing.

And then the morning dew shall come silently with the moonlight,

To carry us at speed to the ends of the yellow sands,

Farther away than the skies.