That was Lina reading her own soul,
Pouring it out in verses —
She woke yours,
Called on me to sort myself out.

Who are you? What are you called to?
It wouldn’t hurt to walk her paths.
What pattern is still not woven,
Let your conscience advise you too.

Find yourself and you’ll help me.
Don’t be ashamed of the primitive.
Lina multiplied, and you will multiply,
I need your versified words as well.