B"H

Oct. 15th, 16th of Tishrei

B"H

On the day of my distress
I raise my voice
My soul refuses
To be consoled
I speak
And my spirit faints
I remember my music
And my spirit seeks

Will I ever be appeased
You gave me these gifts
To return in the way that I live
Under your cloak I am blessed
Those who are worthy
Shall teach

You rest sanctity
In the territory
Cover and protect
Your presence is received
And even your rebuke
Is given lovingly
So I look face to face
Despite the suffering

For it comes while you look at me
And see what I need
I examine my deeds
You wash off my filth
When I am dirty
Like waters reflect the face
My face looks at my king
Until I am clean
A kindness manifesting

The pain of severity
Will be sweetened
And even today
You embrace me
The climb may be hard
But you raise me