Mother, you know - darkness is coming, so lend me a lantern that I may distinguish in the dark what is black. That I may feel the white of the jasmines, though their smell still makes me think of death, but this affliction I would like to cure. Plant the soothing flowers and say - on the field furrows, like on a lowland meadow, moments of happiness bloom as well from a passage - to a passage. Send me a letter of hope that you will be able to come and that you will blow the candle out when the time to wake up comes. You will lead me by the hand because I am still a child, and I'm not ashamed to ask you - talk to God there about difficult matters - after all, you also shared the burdens of existence, here where every day is different and where there are no sinless.