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As on this month’s last day,
the moon is waning,
make my sins wane, O Lord,
my merits flourish.
I know my heart is hard—
a wicked web whose threads are sin—
and I deserve the fire
for weaving wrong…
Open your mouth
To feed that flesh
Your teeth have bled
Tongue us out
Bone by bone
Do not allow
Man to be fed
By bread alone
“And He afflicted thee and suffered thee to hunger and fed thee with…
Dedicated to the Great Lord of Hosts.
Supreme and merciful God,
my affection to Your lofty and just compassion
dedicates to You today
the exordia of my muse.
Protect, immense Lord,
my coarse and…