Lalla, embarked on
Going a-searching, a cotton flower:
Thorns and carders pricked and kicked me hard;
As the spinner spun me thin, on the spinning wheel,
The weaver hung me by the leg on the loom;
As the washerman rubbed me with soap.
He dashed me against a stone
And, washed me clean,
Soothed I was on seeing water:
And when the tailor moved his machine
To shape me well,
There and then, I attained
Supreme salvation and bliss'