My elders taught me, while I was yet a child, to hold fast to heaven and earth, lest I stumble. Long did I remain a child, and long did I lean upon the crutch they gave me.
But when Eternity coursed through me and I felt myself a stranger in the world, heaven and earth broke in my hands like a frail reed.
O Lord, my Strength, how powerless are heaven and earth! They look like palaces of lead, yet they evaporate like water on the palm in Thy presence. Only by their bristling do they hide their powerlessness, and frighten untaught children.
Remove yourselves from my eyes, O suns and stars. Fall away from the earth. Do not entice me, women and friends. What help can you offer me, you who helplessly grow old and sink into the grave?
All your gifts are an apple with a worm in its heart. All your drinks have passed many times through someone's bowels. Your garments are cobwebs, which my nakedness mocks. Your smiles — the herald of a sorrow in which you will cry out to me for help, the powerless to the powerless.
O Lord, my Strength, how powerless are heaven and earth! And all the evil that men do under heaven is a confession of powerlessness and — powerlessness.
Only the mighty dares to do good. Only he who is fed and given drink by Thee, O my Strength, is filled with strength for good.
Only the sleeper upon Thy heart feels rest. Only he who plows before Thy feet shall taste the sweetness of the fruit of his labor.
My childhood has passed, nourished on fear and ignorance, and my hope in heaven and earth has vanished. Now I look to Thee alone and hold fast to Thy gaze, O my cradle and my resurrection.