White Clothes on my Soul

Oh, my Lord!
Talk to me! Your voice sounds like water
To the worn out dreams and hopes -
The evaporated and burned out
By the desert hot air the world breaths…

Oh, my Lord!
Talk to me! Your voice sounds like nurture
To the soul - that's Your newborn daughter
That has turned to Your clear world from
The earthly thoughts, is reborn here…

I feel white clothes on my soul
When I am talking with You
I feel my soul is reborn
Your love evokes all true

Clear notes so pure
Of the song that's my life
By now it sounds like dew
On the fresh morning grass…

I feel white clothes on my soul
When I am hearing Your words,
And all the dirt that before
Was on this clear washed clothes

Disappear like the morning
Feeble mist frightened by
The rays of the glorious
Pure young sun

Oh, my Lord!
Talk to me! Your voice sounds like rhyme
Through the prose that people are writing,
Sounds like golden stream in the sun rays
Sounds like always sounded inside me…

Oh, my Lord!
Talk to me! There’s no such silence
As an awful, deep, empty vacuum
That the soul feels when it's out of
Your warm embrace so kind…

I feel white clothes on my soul
When I am talking with You
I feel my soul is reborn
Your love evokes all true

Clear notes so pure
Of the song that's my life
By now it sounds like dew
On the fresh morning grass…

I feel white clothes on my soul
When I am hearing Your words,
And all the dirt that before
Was on this clear washed clothes

Disappear like the morning
Feeble mist frightened by
The rays of the glorious
Pure young sun