My coming and my going
Is Your pleasure's whimsy, Dear.
Life and death, my receiving of it,
That's not worthy of Your notice.
The span of a day is long for me;
For You ten million years is scanty.
Boundless and very deep is the great sea,
But it's not even a dewdrop for Thee.
I arrive on Your current of effulgence;
I am floating, tugged by Your attraction.
Riding on Your loving stream,
Though I exist, no I is there.
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Who and what am I compared to Thee?
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