O world of water and clay, since I knew you I have known a myriad tribulations and pains.
You are the pasturage of asses, not the abode of Jesus; why have I known this pasturage of asses?
You first spread the table, then gave me sweet water; you bound me hand and foot, so that I knew hand and foot.
Why should you not bind hand and foot, seeing God called you a cradle?
Like a tree I lift up my hands from the earth in desire for that One from whom I knew desire.
“O cluster, how is it that in childhood you become like a perfect old man?” Answer came, “I escaped from youthful passion when I knew the zephyr.”
The branch goes upwards because it came from above; I hasten towards my origin, because I know my origin.
How long shall I speak of “below” and “above”? Placelessness is my origin, I am not of place, for I know whence place comes.
No, be silent, depart into nonexistence, become naught in nonexistence; behold, how I know things from no-things!
