| On a red paper Spread dry sand.; Draw with the finger A circle there; Gather the grains Outside the rim And let them run From the left palm, slowly Down to the circle's Caenter, saying: Time is truth Time is sand Time run true From my own hand: For love For joy For pain For death... Repeat these four; When the sand ends, In that word The truth will rest. |
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| For Telling Fortunes by Sand |