(23) In such a Manner as this the Sun rose up in the Fiat, and out of the Sun (in its first Kindling) [rose] the other Planets, viz. upwards, out of the raging Bitterness, Mars [rose,] which pTo. the Splendor of the Sun stayed [or upheld] when it discovered it: And out of the Virtue of the Sun, which raised itself higher, [rose] Jupiter imprisoned in the Center of the Fiat: And out of the Chamber of Anguish [rose] Saturnus: And downwards Venus [rose] from the soft Mildness, when the Harshness was overcome, and was soft, sweet, and sinking down like Water. And when the Light kindled, then out of the sour harsh Wrath came Love and Humility to be, running downwards: And out of the overcome Virtue in the sour Harshness [rose Mercurius,] wherein stands the Knowledge of what was in the Original before the Light: But when the Light made the Virtue in the Place of the Sun material, as it were in an earthly Manner [rose] the Moon.

(30) Thereon comes surcease from sorrow and the burden of toil.

(19) And the Light of the Sun is as it were a God in the Nature of this World, and by its Virtue [and Influence] it continually kindles the Stars [or Constellations] whereby the Stars [or Constellations] (which are of a very terrible and anguishing Essence) continually exult in Triumph very joyfully. For it [the Sun] is an Essence like the Light of God, which kindles and enlightens the dark Mind of the Father, from whence, by the Light, there arises the divine Joy in the Father.

(41) And I saw the chambers of the sun and moon, whence they proceed and whither they come again, and their glorious return, and how one is superior to the other, and their stately orbit, and how they do not leave their orbit, and they add nothing to their orbit and they take nothing from it, and they keep faith with each other, in accordance with the oath by which they are bound together.

(22) Now the Sun and the Stars [or Constellations] continually kindle the Tincture, for it is fiery; and the Tincture kindles the Body, with the Matrix of the Water, so that they are always boiling, [rising] and seething. The Stars [or Constellations] and the Sun are the Fire of the Tincture, and the Tincture is the Fire of the Body, and so all are seething. And therefore when the Sun is underneath, so that its Beams [or Shining] is no more [upon a Thing,] then the Tincture is weaker, for it has no Kindling from the Virtue of the Sun. And although the Virtue of the Stars and the quality are kindled from the Sun, yet all is too little, and so it becomes feeble, [or as it were dead.] And when the Tincture is feeble, then the Virtue in the Blood (which is the Tincture) is wholly weak, and sinks into a sweet Rest, as it were dead or overcome.

(72) And this is the law and the course of the sun, and his return as often as he returns sixty times and rises, i.e. the great luminary which is named the sun, for ever and ever.

(41) For the sun changes oft for a blessing or a curse, And the course of the path of the moon is light to the righteous And darkness to the sinners in the name of the Lord, Who made a separation between the light and the darkness, And divided the spirits of men, And strengthened the spirits of the righteous, In the name of His righteousness.

(11) But they are not lost! Remember, you are what you are today by reason of these very experiences which you now fail to remember—they exist in your character and have helped to mould and shape it. The apparently forgotten pains, pleasures, sorrows, and happinesses are active factors in the formation and maintenance of your character of today. This trial strengthened you along certain lines; that one changed your point of view and made you see things with a broader vision. This grief caused you to feel the pain of others; that disappointment spurred you on to new endeavors. And each and every one of them left a permanent mark upon your personality—upon your character. All men and women are what they are by reason of what they have gone through—have lived out and outlived. And though these happenings, scenes, circumstances, occurrences, experiences, have faded from the memory, their effects are indelibly imprinted upon the fabric of the character, and the individual of today is different from what he would have been had the happenings or experience not entered into his life.

(61) A blade of grass cannot, pierce a mountain. If the sun that illumines the world Were to draw nigher, the world would be consumed. Close thy mouth and shut the eyes of this matter, That, the world's life be not made a bleeding heart. No longer seek this peril, this bloodshed; Hereafter impose silence on the 'Sun of Tabriz.'" He said, "Thy words are endless. Now tell forth All thy story from its beginning."

(1) Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there. I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way. But after I had reached a mountain's foot, At that point where the valley terminated, Which had with consternation pierced my heart, Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders, Vested already with that planet's rays Which leadeth others right by every road. Then was the fear a little quieted That in my heart's lake had endured throughout The night, which I had passed so piteously. And even as he, who, with distressful breath, Forth issued from the sea upon the shore, Turns to the water perilous and gazes;

(4) For by returning to my memory somewhat, And by a little sounding in these verses, More of thy victory shall be conceived! I think the keenness of the living ray Which I endured would have bewildered me, If but mine eyes had been averted from it; And I remember that I was more bold On this account to bear, so that I joined My aspect with the Glory Infinite. O grace abundant, by which I presumed To fix my sight upon the Light Eternal, So that the seeing I consumed therein! I saw that in its depth far down is lying Bound up with love together in one volume, What through the universe in leaves is scattered; Substance, and accident, and their operations, All interfused together in such wise That what I speak of is one simple light. The universal fashion of this knot Methinks I saw, since more abundantly In saying this I feel that I rejoice. One moment is more lethargy to me, Than five and twenty centuries to the emprise That startled Neptune with the shade of Argo!

(5) And then in manner of the little flame, Which followeth the fire where'er it shifts, After the spirit followeth its new form. Since afterwards it takes from this its semblance, It is called shade; and thence it organizes Thereafter every sense, even to the sight. Thence is it that we speak, and thence we laugh; Thence is it that we form the tears and sighs, That on the mountain thou mayhap hast heard. According as impress us our desires And other affections, so the shade is shaped, And this is cause of what thou wonderest at." And now unto the last of all the circles Had we arrived, and to the right hand turned, And were attentive to another care. There the embankment shoots forth flames of fire, And upward doth the cornice breathe a blast That drives them back, and from itself sequesters. Hence we must needs go on the open side, And one by one; and I did fear the fire On this side, and on that the falling down. My Leader said: "Along this place one ought To keep upon the eyes a tightened rein, Seeing that one so easily might err."

(4) Thus do I suffer; and the deep stain of calamity Ever stirs me from the depths, agitated By the bitter stings of rage."

(1) So steadfast and attentive were mine eyes In satisfying their decennial thirst, That all my other senses were extinct, And upon this side and on that they had Walls of indifference, so the holy smile Drew them unto itself with the old net When forcibly my sight was turned away Towards my left hand by those goddesses, Because I heard from them a "Too intently!" And that condition of the sight which is In eyes but lately smitten by the sun Bereft me of my vision some short while; But to the less when sight re-shaped itself, I say the less in reference to the greater Splendour from which perforce I had withdrawn, I saw upon its right wing wheeled about The glorious host returning with the sun And with the sevenfold flames upon their faces. As underneath its shields, to save itself, A squadron turns, and with its banner wheels, Before the whole thereof can change its front, That soldiery of the celestial kingdom Which marched in the advance had wholly passed us Before the chariot had turned its pole.

(12) For the Spring of the great Anguish, which was in the Beginning before the Light, in the [tart] Harshness, from which the bitter Sting or Prickle is generated, that is now in the sweet Fountain of the Love in the Light changed from the Water- Spirit, and from Bitterness or Stinging is now become the Fountain or Spring of the Joy in the Light. Thus now henceforth the Fire-flash is the Father of the Light, and the Light shines in him, and is now the only Cause of the moving Birth, and of the Birth of the Love. That which in the Beginning was the raking Source, is now S U L, or the Oil of the lovely pleasant Fountain, which presses through all the Fountains, so that from hence the Light is kindled.

(4) As it is said that it is the Têrak of Albûrz from behind which my sun and moon and stars return again.

(15) Neither the sun, nor the moon, nor the fire can illumine that (state of Paramatma), which having reached, (men) do not return (take birth again); That is My Supreme Abode.

(1) A will benign, in which reveals itself Ever the love that righteously inspires, As in the iniquitous, cupidity, Silence imposed upon that dulcet lyre, And quieted the consecrated chords, That Heaven's right hand doth tighten and relax. How unto just entreaties shall be deaf Those substances, which, to give me desire Of praying them, with one accord grew silent? 'Tis well that without end he should lament, Who for the love of thing that doth not last Eternally despoils him of that love! As through the pure and tranquil evening air There shoots from time to time a sudden fire, Moving the eyes that steadfast were before, And seems to be a star that changeth place, Except that in the part where it is kindled Nothing is missed, and this endureth little; So from the horn that to the right extends Unto that cross's foot there ran a star Out of the constellation shining there; Nor was the gem dissevered from its ribbon, But down the radiant fillet ran along, So that fire seemed it behind alabaster.

(1) After the truth against the present life Of miserable mortals was unfolded By her who doth imparadise my mind, As in a looking-glass a taper's flame He sees who from behind is lighted by it, Before he has it in his sight or thought, And turns him round to see if so the glass Tell him the truth, and sees that it accords Therewith as doth a music with its metre, In similar wise my memory recollecteth That I did, looking into those fair eyes, Of which Love made the springes to ensnare me. And as I turned me round, and mine were touched By that which is apparent in that volume, Whenever on its gyre we gaze intent, A point beheld I, that was raying out Light so acute, the sight which it enkindles Must close perforce before such great acuteness. And whatsoever star seems smallest here Would seem to be a moon, if placed beside it. As one star with another star is placed. Perhaps at such a distance as appears A halo cincturing the light that paints it, When densest is the vapour that sustains it,

(46) Now the Will or the Desiring in the Dryness cannot reach the Light; and therein consists the Anguish in the Will [Longing] after the Light; and the Anguish is attractive, and in the Attracting is the Woe, and the Woe makes the Anguish greater, so that the Anguish in the Harshness attracts much more, and this Attracting in the Woe is the bitter [Sting or] Prickle, or the Bitterness of the Woe; and the Anguish reaches after the [Sting or] Prickle with attracting, and yet cannot comprehend it, because it resists, and the more the Anguish attracts, the more the [Sting or] Prickle raves and rages.