Another Poem in the Same Vein (No. 6)

You, whom even the sun's cutting blade obeys, its power and sharpness bowing to your command. Before the majesty of your station the heavens stand helpless, their seven spheres stalled in their work. In the dark night of disasters, your mind is like the dawn breaking, a hand of light shining through. Your love in the hearts of gifted people burns like thirst in the scorching desert. Though my failing is so great that it has passed beyond any hope of pardon, My holding back was never a choice of my own, for a human being is a servant bound by fate. One can grasp this much, for even in acts of worship a duty can be missed and made up later. All of this is so, and still I wait for you to turn toward me with a look of favor. When the true dawn presents its clear excuse, the stars forgive it and look away. From your generosity my hope is this: first your forgiveness, and then your approval.