When you and I behind the veil are past,
oh, but the long, long while the world shall last,
which of our coming and departure heeds,
as the sea‘s self should heed a pebble-cast.
A moment‘s halt – a momentary taste
of being from the well amid the waste –
and lo! – the phantom caravan has reached
the nothing it set out from – oh, make haste!
Would you that spangle of existence spend
about the secret – quick about it, friend!
A hair perhaps divides the false from the true –
and upon what may life depend?
A hair perhaps divides the false and true;
Yes; and a single sign were the clue –
could you but find it – to the treasure-house
and peradventure to the master too.
Whose secret presence through creation‘s veins
running quicksilver-like eludes our pains;
taking all shapes from small to grand and
they change and perish all – but he remains.
And fear not lest existence closing your account
and mine should know the like no more;
the eternal one from that bowl has poured
millions of bubbles like us, and will pour.
When you and I behind the veil are past,
oh, but the long, long while the world shall last,
which of our coming and departure heeds
as the sea‘s self should heed a pebble-cast.
Lyrics in part by: Omar Khayyam adapted to music by: Michel Montecrossa
Additional lyrics: Michel Montecrossa, Music: Michel Montecrossa, © Mira Sound Germany