A one only pretends not to know, of the Mercy Goddess who has eleven faces.
Well done it is, child on my shoulder, who has no mouth.
To melt and to make itself poison, a snake in his bosom, to have a harmful result for a snake.
The universe from a shell, spitting sand out day by day, of her dream.
With an arrow wheel, not to go anywhere, to stay by windsock. Or, with an arrow wheel, not to go anywhere, to blow and to float down on the water.