I ask 'why me?' as if i am important to the mallard,
yet she replies 'because, while the glow of heaven
retreat with the last steps of regret, you seek care.'
Thou’rt gone, the abyss of death,
yet I have swallowed my wet pride deeply
to sink into the guide of 'why them?'
to which the bird said nothing.
He, who forgets the zone of the boundless sky,
should never ask why,
instead ponder to one million waterfowl
how is Hashem holding up heaven when I am holding up earth?