Like a beggar at the Western Wall
I approach the Days of Awe
Greedy hands held out for more
May the Creator hear me call.
Like an infant at the breast
With ferocious appetite
I come to Rosh Hashanah night
Prepared to utter my request.
Everything lovely I require
Pleasure joy fulfillment ease
In abundance to appease
The long mourning of which I tire
Surely I am not to blame
In presenting my petition
If it is a sin of commission
May He hear me just the same