Is this the way out from the City of Glee?
Where the sun was a juddering timpani,
Glass beads all flicking into a fosse
And clouds were white like candyfloss.
Sighnaghi was fair to a hoyden like me.
Is this the way out from the City of Lust?
Where I vowed and cleaved, and He broke my trust,
A youth wasted on penance and chastity belt.
Can’t reach forbidden fruit when faithfully knelt.
I cuirassed myself in dead monastery crust.
Blessed Virgin Mary, she gave me this cross,
I tasted bitter wine from sweet grapes.
Is this the way out from the City of Love?
I have wished to flee the stale sinner and dove.
My wedding dress, threadbare and black,
Like missal and pack slung over my back,
Won’t be needed when push has come to shove.
Is there no way out from the City of Joy?
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