Lastly, his tomb shall list and founder in the troughs of grass. And none shall speak his name.

My tomb shall bless and speak to the needs of my devotees.

Already old, the question Who shall die? Becomes unspoken Who is innocent?

Laughter and grief join hands. Always the heart Clumps in the breast with heavy stride; The face grows lined and wrinkled like a chart, The eyes bloodshot with tears and tide. Let the wind blow, for many a man shall die.

And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; / They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.

I shall be active and vigorous even from the tomb.