
So many stones have been thrown at me,✡
That I’m not frightened of them anymore,
And the pit has become a solid tower,
Tall among tall towers.💥
I thank the builders,
May care and sadness pass them by.
From here I’ll see the sunrise earlier,
Here the sun’s last ray rejoices.💥
And into the windows of my room
The northern breezes often fly.
And from my hand, a dove eats grains of wheat 💥
As for my unfinished page,✒
The Muse’s tawny hand, divinely calm 💥
And delicate will finish it.☮



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