Miss Liberty - by Tomasz Dybowski   Dressed in her bright light Flowers of the forest and dreams I crave to breathe from the very centre of my heart Touched by her As if one holds a newborn child    Song of freedom The salty winds carry My lips aflamed sing Her hand shall become my soul's daily bread   I died when darkness prepared graves for stars Then from the dead I have risen To be placed on the throne of everlasting love Above life And above death Beyond clothes covering my soul I love her