You Blessed Child are playing with this universe
absent-mindedly.
Creation and destruction are the objects of your solitary sport.
In empty space you are absorbed in a miracle-play
Now you are creating, now destroying.
Oh you indifferent one, stars, sun and moon are you toys
They lie scattered at your luminous feet in profusion.
You are always, oh liberal one, unruffled by pain or joy.
You laugh and play intent on your own design.
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