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Here, in this book of mine
Drawn are numerous pictures
Assets of this traversing age.
The willingness with which this Earth after its birth
Draws the signs of life
Numerous animals, birds, and growth of plants,
And their shadows
Are here on each page of mine, on each line,
On each word, and next to each sound pattern.
Do excuse me of this pride,
You know with what juice is built the interior of creation,
Where none can own anything
Everyone is covered with the roof of the same sky,
Below the soil buries.
There, please, place mine this
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