The soul gate opens

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Sándor Reményik: The soul's alive

The soul's alive,
My brethren,
Its faith it does not change.
The soul's alive in letters, colours, wood,
In rigid marble, undulating voices,
Through a hundred changes -
Until it denies its very self.

The soul lives on, works quietly,
On a tiny island, or a vast ocean,
But its creations are not meant for the world:
A small circle, a tiny flock only.
The soul's alive,
My brethren,
And does not change its faith.