How much, and how many times, have you sobbed, O my soul, for one who would know the way, and see the truth, and have the life.
Thirsting, you gave yourself to many runabout know-alls, who led you a little way along every path, and turned you back again.
You have listened to many tale-tellers speak of the truth, O my soul. But when you set before them the weighty questions from which your inmost parts burn, the word stuck choking in their throats. And you went grieving to other tale-tellers, and listened once more to the same tale, which like all the rest goes only so far, like rubber stretched taut.
And they who took pains to show you life opened your eyes only to death.
But behold, the Resurrector comes, and all-terrifying death slips away in fear before him. Behold, O soul, the tale of a life that death does not cut short but makes longer.
Behold the living tale of truth, which gives answer to all your questions before you even ask them.
Behold the guide, whose way has no end, and who, when he leads you, does not turn back.
Behold the good shepherd, who prizes the life of one sheep above all the sabbaths of the Jews. And behold the physician, to whom the life of a repentant sinner is more precious than the Temple of Solomon.
Do not fret, O my soul, over a single sheep in your fold — not one shall perish. Neither grieve over the wolves around the sheep — not one shall escape. For your shepherd has a sharp two-edged sword.
All the sheep are within you, and all the wolves are within you — the offspring of your marriage with heaven and earth — and behold, my beloved enters with a sharp two-edged sword.
Do not wail if his sword brings you pain. He is the good physician; he cuts out of you only what is not you. Do not wail for the strangers who brought you sickness, and shame, and grievous wounds.
Do not be afraid of the unquenchable fire that he bears into you. Long has the heaped-up rot stood in need of a blaze within you. Long will that blaze last, for the rot within you is putrid.
That which will pain you is not you, O my soul, but your second marriage and — the illegitimate children.
Do not murmur if he parts you from father and mother, and brothers and sisters. From all that is heavenly he will not part you. And not one of your heavenly bonds does he intend to sever. Behold, he only parts you and cleanses you from the earth, and severs your bonds with the earth.
If you were a pure maiden, O my soul, and looked with the unclouded eye of heavenly innocence, you would easily loose yourself from those bonds, for you would see that in truth they do not even exist.
Hasten, O my soul, and unite yourself with the Son of the Living God, for I cannot bear to wait. When you are united, behold, neither his sword nor his fire will be terrible to you, but sweet as honey.