I am a book written within and without, and sealed with seven seals.
My neighbors spell at me, and cannot spell out my name.
My neighbors, how then will you read the name of the Lord, who washes me clean of the mire, when you cannot spell out my name!
I am Thy book, O Lord my King; I am Thy writing both within and without. Only the world has smudged me with its illiterate hand, and I have become unclear and unreadable.
I am Thy book, O Lord my King, and Thine are the seals with which Thou hast sealed me as Thy holy thing.
Beneath every seal lies hidden a gift of the Holy Spirit, a gift of the immortal life of the Heavenly Triad. Who will unseal what God has sealed — who else can, save God alone?
My neighbors say to me: you are the world's book, and you are written all over by the hand of the world, and all the gifts in you are gifts of the world?
Thus the illiterate read me, and I feel that they do not know my name.
Truly, the world has written much with its clumsy hand upon my heart. Many an unsought gift has the world crammed into my heart.
But behold, even when I erase all the world's writing from my heart, and cast out all the world's gifts from my heart, I do not cast my heart out of myself, nor do I leave it empty.
And behold, when I erase all the world's writing upon my mind, and cast out all the world's gifts from my mind, I do not cast my mind out of myself, nor do I leave it empty.
And I know that my spirit has written upon my body, and my body upon my spirit. Behold, when I erase all the writing of my spirit upon my body, and of my body upon my spirit, still I do not remain a book unwritten.
When I cast out the whole world from myself, again I see within myself a book sealed with seven seals. It is Thy book, O Lord. It is the writing of my Lord. Who can unseal the book of God save God alone?
Whoever acknowledges Thee as Father, him Thou also acknowledgest as son, and to the son Thou openest the book and readest the mysteries. Seal by seal Thou breakest, and readest him the mysteries.
In vain do men read me; they will not read me through. They will read only what the world has written on me and in me. But their eyes cannot read beneath the seals.
There are not many words in that book, but every word is sharp as flame, and long as immortality, and sweeter than all the sweetnesses of this world.
Seven words — seven spirits and seven lives, three above and three below, bound in the midst inseparably into one undying flame.
The holy manhood of heaven and the virginal womanhood of earth, girded about with an immaculate girdle, adorned with seven stars.
But who dares scatter pearls before those who feed on rotten apples? Who dares read Thy mysteries to those who are literate only in the thick letters of the world?
An invisible hand takes care to write everywhere throughout the world, but the world wrests itself away and strains to write with its own dead hand — dead letters.
O All-Merciful Lord, look upon those who look upon Thee, and guide their hand, that when they write upon themselves they may write Thy name both within and without.
O my All-Wise God, direct the eyes of Thy chosen ones to the seals of Thy book, that with prayer they may wait and with understanding read, when Thou shalt soundlessly and slowly break the seals of the mysteries?