[Verse 1]
At the orchard gate today
Was that tomorrow?
Istenem make a fire
Kiss your heart
Risha, Arabic for feather
[Chorus 1]
In this way, my love
Whispers to me
Warm, beloved and still
This way, my love
Come to me
In a language of two hands
In this a strange poetry
She is turning, turning in
From all the temples of old
From all the holds
In which it's stowed
[Verse 2]
Turning into gold
In his way through
A sacred dimension
Not by might, not by power, by his spirit
His loving intention
His loving intention
At the orchard gate today
Was that tomorrow?
Istenem make a fire
Kiss your heart
Risha, Arabic for feather
[Chorus 1]
In this way, my love
Whispers to me
Warm, beloved and still
This way, my love
Come to me
In a language of two hands
In this a strange poetry
She is turning, turning in
From all the temples of old
From all the holds
In which it's stowed
[Verse 2]
Turning into gold
In his way through
A sacred dimension
Not by might, not by power, by his spirit
His loving intention
His loving intention
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