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When the doors on the street are shut,
    when the sound of the grinding mill is low;
one rises up to the sound of the bird,
    and all the daughters of song are brought low.
They are afraid of heights,
    and terrors are on the road.
The almond tree blossoms,
    and the grasshopper draws itself along, and desire fails
because man goes to his eternal home,
    and the mourners go about in the streets.
Before the silver cord is snapped
    and the golden bowl is broken;
and the jar at the foundation is broken,
    and the wheel at the cistern is broken.

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