Amid the clamor and mockery of men my prayer rises to Thee, O my King and my Kingdom. Prayer is incense, that without ceasing censes my soul and raises it to Thee, and bends Thee down to it.
Bend down, O my King, that I may whisper to Thee my dearest secret, my most secret prayer, my most prayerful desire. Thou art the object of all my prayers, of all my seeking. Nothing do I ask of Thee, verily, save Thee alone.
What could I seek from Thee that would not sever me from Thee? That I might be lord over a few stars? Shall I not with Thee be lord over all the stars?
That I might be first among men? What shame for me, when Thou at Thy table shalt set me in the last place!
That millions of human mouths might glorify me? What horror for me, when all those mouths are filled with earth!
That I might surround myself with the most precious things of the whole world? What humiliation for me, that those things should outlive me, and shine on even when earthen darkness fills my eyes!
That Thou wouldst not part me from my friends? Ah, part me, O Lord, part me as soon as may be from my friends, for they are the thickest wall between Thee and me.
Why should we pray, say my neighbors, when God does not hear our prayers? And I say to them: your prayer is not prayer but peddling. You do not pray to God to give you God, but the devil. Therefore Heavenly Wisdom does not receive the prayers from your tongue.
Why should we pray, murmur my neighbors, when God knows beforehand what we need? And with sorrow I answer: truly, God knows that you need nothing but Him alone. At the door of your soul He waits to enter. By prayer the door is opened for the entrance of the majestic King. Do you not say to one another at the door: please, enter?
God seeks glory not for Himself but for you. To His glory all the worlds can add nothing, still less can you. Your prayer glorifies you and not God. In Him is fullness and mercy. All the good words that you offer to Him in prayer return twofold upon you.
O my King of Light and my God, to Thee alone I pray and bow down. Pour Thyself into me as a rushing torrent into thirsty sand. Only pour Thyself out, O life-giving Water, and easily then will grass grow upon the sand and white lambs graze upon the grass.
Only pour Thyself into my parched soul, O my Life and my Salvation.