Better than superb are You;
You go on giving love.
All that's ebon You consume;
No sport do You wish to perform.
There are many defects, misdeeds are there;
And everything is known to Thee.
Affection in conception, all of them wittingly
With honey You envelop.
Never did I achieve any chore assigned;
Through no work, Lord, did I ever satisfy.
By stroke of grace have I come here;
Kindly take me and reform.
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He makes this sinner better. Love is His only aim.
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