How far is our boundary in this iniquitous halting place
Day after day passing its fellows
Behold the gourd of wine which the souls in ignorance
From one with wine may be, oh Fools.


Th 877

How long in this unjust world shall we stay,
Passing from day to night, from night to day?
O fools, behold the cup! for from our purse
Unconsciously existence slips away!

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