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.