now ignite in us an unquenchable fire
so the skin on our faces becomes rough
like unpolished diamonds with lines
carved deep into our foreheads
from the many knives we weren't able to dodge.
May our voices sound like a choir on a mountaintop during a snowstorm.
On an island where the air is thick with light and the tinkling of jewelry
we wait like beggars among the silk and porcelain
to burst into a million candles.
Now unleash in us a violent storm of inspiration.
Multiply the scars on our hands as we ascend along frozen metal bars above a million streetlights and fistfights.
May our thoughts grow like wild flowers in rusty machines,
may our skills like waves express noises from below.
Then we will wear our experiences like elegant jewelry, we will always successfully escape from prison with diamonds.
Illuminate all our faces in cold nights far from home.