How long before its dawn,
For the Sun to come again?
A perfect time is not certain,
No one chooses where to die.

The prophets used to be here,
They are now hiding in caves,
For the fear of facing the world,
Who rested their lives on them.

Just like the farmer once said;
That he labours all day long,
Thinking all through the night,
Trying to please all he planted.

If they should serve no food,
When harvest time has come,
...