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and the doors on the street are shut,
    and the sound of grinding is low;
and one rises up at the sound of a bird,
    and all the daughters of song are brought low;
when they are afraid of heights,
    even the terrors along the road;
the almond tree blossoms,
    the grasshopper drags itself along
    and desire fails,
because man goes to his eternal home,
    and the mourners go about the streets.

Remember your Creator before the cord of silver is snapped,
    or the bowl of gold smashed,
or the jar by the spring broken
    or the wheel at the cistern crushed.

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