On the First Day I retire,

leaving shining day and ivory spire,

and as in delusion do I lay,

so will suffering always be my way.

In time and pain I learn,

and in Seven Days freedom do I earn.

And now I my knives do count,

by my feet in wooden mount.

Shift the weights and look away,

to the bed and then I say:

goodnight moon, and fragile world,

waste no breath and do not pray.

Dream, for it is the Second Day.