To the Virgin Mary with child
angels hold robes trimmed
over the dewy lawn
the sun hidden beyond the horizon
casts a pink glow here
silently the earth sails in the twilight
My memories slip through like a sieve
a promise falls after promise
here in the sacred space
You have grace, Virgin, in your heart
forgive me, please forgive me
for being what I am
(Ivan Martin Jirous /1944–2011/, Swan Songs)