I delayed the years of my life
For the fortunate one who livens
The mood with good doing.
He gathered wood, and fires
Were ablaze to burn the souls.
I delayed the owner of the fire,
His fire was a lasting measure,
For the vile acts were numbers.
Words acted like deeds, rich people
Desired the richer beings,
Of this high world that forgives you.
My delay is a forgiven matter,
Light has guided my youth,
Like harmful dozens of diseases,
Little riches have entered the centre
Of all life that is supreme.
My expedition into the earth of my soul
And death is along gathering.
The majesty of this prime day
Is full of guidance, full of harm.
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