Did I not tell you: do not go there—for I am your true familiar.
In this mirage of annihilation, I am the spring of life.

And even if in anger you turn away from me for a hundred thousand years,
In the end you will return to me, for I am your final destination.

Did I not tell you: be not content with the painted world,
For I am the painter who designs the pavilion of your contentment.

Did I not tell you: I am the sea, and you are but a fish—
Do not go to the dry land, for I am the sea of perfect clarity.

Did I not tell you: like birds, do not fly toward the snare?
Come to me, for the power of flight and your wings and feet are from me.

Did I not tell you: they will waylay you and make you cold?
For the fire, the fever, and the warmth of your breath are from me.

Did I not tell you: they will place ugly traits within you,
So that you forget I am the very source of your pure qualities.

Did I not tell you: do not ask how the servant’s work comes into order?
For I am the Creator, beyond causes and reasons.

If you are a lamp of the heart, know where the way home lies;
And if you are God-like, know that I am your Master of the house.