Litany of the Taong-Grasa

Lord,

Make me a fool, be my wisdom.
Make me a beggar, be my sustenance.
Make me a loser, be my victory.
Make me a dog, be my master.
Make me an eyesore, be my beauty.

Make me a weakling, be my fortress.
Make me a vagabond, be my home.
Make me a wound, be my balm.
Make me a disease, be my medicine.
Make me a trash, be my scavenger.

Make me succumb for breath and be for me, fresh air.
Make me stammer and lost for words, and be for me, eloquence.
Make me a paralytic whenever I attempt to foolishly prove anything on my own,
so you can knock me on the head, and bring me back on my feet.

O make of me whatever you fancy,
and discard me just as quickly when you're done.
That I may rejoice immensely,
in blessed anonymity!