Simbellmyne's utopia

AT MIDNIGHT

There is a single hour that comes
amidst the night
when to the fixed white stars your prayers
take soundless flight.

How limpid, endless in itself,
lies radiant space,
as if the stars moved, in your heart,
each to its place.

In those blue vaults, all that has being,
out, up, and down!
Through their immense expanses, you
dissolve and drown.

Now prayer and sanctity have gone,
nor is there sin.
Oh, let the avid heart speak out:
Heaven will win.

Vincas Mykolaitis - Putinas (Translated by Clark Mills)