What is clothing worth, if there is no body to clothe? What is the body worth, if the soul is not mantled with it? What is the soul worth, if Thou dost not keep vigil within her, O Fire in the ashes?
My clothing is ashes and smoke, if my body gives it no worth.
My beautiful lake is blind mud, if the seeing water be drained out of it.
My soul is ashes and smoke, if Thou be drained out of her, O Morning Dew.
In the ashes of all things Thou writest Thy name, and with the smoke of all things Thou veilest the flame of Thy splendor.
Thy flame is dew to the thirsty, who bend themselves to Thine embrace. But Thy flame is a consuming fire to those who flee from it.
Truly Thou art paradise to the pure and hell to the impure.
When the Last Day comes — when the First and the Last Day are revealed to men as One Day — then the pure will rejoice and the impure will mourn. And the impure will cry out: alas, we ate ashes on earth, and now we must eat fire in heaven!
Your prophets, O Heavenly Mother, were discoverers of the fire beneath the ashes, divers into volcanic craters. In your boundless mercy you granted to each to discover the spark for which he dived, until all the sparks flowed together into the flaming blaze of your Son, O Heavenly Mother.
O Lord, Thou didst raise up shepherds for every flock, and the shepherds kindled fires for their flocks, that the flocks might not freeze on the craggy road of history. Until the All-Man, the Only-Begotten Son, set the great fire ablaze and called all the flocks to warm themselves.
Behold, how deeply all the noble metals hide themselves, the eyes of the earth's depths! How much more, then, art Thou hidden beneath the ashes of the earth, O noblest Stone!
The poor man plows his field and shakes his head when I say to him: O rich man, deep beneath your barren field lies a lake of molten gold.
Do not shake your heads, impoverished princes, when I tell you that the body is more precious than clothing, and the soul than the body, and the Flaming King than the soul.