How sacred are my hands!
That touch the Heavenly Height while praying,
The trustees of my tears,
That dropped on them before the skirt,
My hands are above all
That have been making my luck,
That have been writing my future.
The line in my hand,
I kiss.
They need no support and cover,
Neither they are in the vault beyond reach,
They are free from the world of miracles,
They are unscared of talks and tales,
They are guides to Paradise,
Great wings of prayers,
How sacred are my hands!
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