The path twists, yet my pace and steps remain regular. Wind whips, I am untouched.
O protector! What grace came that I merit such treatment? While all drop around me, I yet stand.
Let me give thanks.
(Letter #3,780)
The path twists, yet my pace and steps remain regular. Wind whips, I am untouched.
O protector! What grace came that I merit such treatment? While all drop around me, I yet stand.
Let me give thanks.
(Letter #3,780)