Another
I lift my voice in wailing, I am afflicted, as I remember that we must leave the beautiful flowers, the noble songs; let us enjoy ourselves for a while, let us sing, for we must depart forever, we are to be destroyed in our dwelling place.
Is it indeed known to our friends how it pains and angers me that never again can they be born, never again be young on this earth?
Yet a little while with them here, then nevermore shall I be with them, nevermore enjoy them, nevermore know them.
Where shall my soul dwell? Where is my home? Where shall be my house? I am miserable on earth.
We take, we unwind the jewels, the blue flowers are woven over the yellow ones, that we may give them to the children.
Let my soul be draped in various flowers; let it be intoxicated by them, for soon must I weeping go before the face of our mother.
This only do I ask: — Thou Giver of Life, be not angry, be not severe on earth, let us live with thee on earth, take us to the Heavens.
But what can I speak truly here of the Giver of Life? We only dream, we are plunged in sleep; I speak here on earth; but never can we speak in worthy terms here.
Although it may be jewels and precious ointments (of speech), yet of the Giver of Life, one can never here speak in worthy terms.
Is it indeed known to our friends how it pains and angers me that never again can they be born, never again be young on this earth?
Yet a little while with them here, then nevermore shall I be with them, nevermore enjoy them, nevermore know them.
Where shall my soul dwell? Where is my home? Where shall be my house? I am miserable on earth.
We take, we unwind the jewels, the blue flowers are woven over the yellow ones, that we may give them to the children.
Let my soul be draped in various flowers; let it be intoxicated by them, for soon must I weeping go before the face of our mother.
This only do I ask: — Thou Giver of Life, be not angry, be not severe on earth, let us live with thee on earth, take us to the Heavens.
But what can I speak truly here of the Giver of Life? We only dream, we are plunged in sleep; I speak here on earth; but never can we speak in worthy terms here.
Although it may be jewels and precious ointments (of speech), yet of the Giver of Life, one can never here speak in worthy terms.
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