To win this jewel of the Thought I offer perfect worship to the Blessed Ones, to the stainless gem of the Good Law, and to the Sons of the Enlightened, oceans of virtues, till flowers, fruits, and healing herbs, all gems and all waters clear and pleasant in the world, likewise mountains of jewels, forests sweet in their solitude, climbing plants bright with ornaments of flowers, trees whose branches bend with goodly fruit, fragrant incenses, trees of desire, and jewel-bearing trees in the worlds of the gods and their kin, lakes bedecked with lilies and wondrously pleasant with the cries of swans, harvests springing without tilth and crops of grain, and all else adorning them whom we worship, all things that are bounded by the spreading ethereal sphere and are in the possession of none. I take in spirit and offer as guerdon to the Supreme Saints and their Sons. Worthy of choicest gifts and great of compassion, may they mercifully accept this of me! I am exceeding poor, and without righteousness; there is naught else for me to offer. So may their care for others’ weal be for my weal, and let the Lords take this in their native grace. Yea, I give to the Conquerors and their Sons myself entirely. Take me for your chattel, O noble beings; I make myself in love your slave. By being your chattel I am freed from fear in life, and work good for living creatures; I escape my former sins, and do evil no more. . . .

With as many obeisances as there are atoms in all the Domains. I adore all the Enlightened Ones of the past, present, and future, the Law, and the noble Congregation. I worship all the memorial-sanctuaries and the dwellings of the Son of the Enlightened; I salute the preceptors and the worshipful holy men. I take refuge with the Enlightened One, awaiting the coming of the perfect Light; I take refuge in the Law and the Congregation of Sons of Enlightenment. With clasped hands I make supplication to the Enlightened Ones dwelling in all regions and to the most merciful Sons of Enlightenment. Whatsoever be the sin that I, poor brute, in my beginningless round of past births or in this birth have in my madness done or made others do or approved for my own undoing, confess the transgression thereof, and am stricken with remorse. Whatsoever wrong I have done by sin against the Three Gems or father and mother or other elders by deed, word, or thought, whatever dire offence has been wrought by me, a sinner foul with many a stain, O Masters, I confess all. How may I escape from it? Speedily save me, lest death come too soon upon me ere my sin have faded away. Death considers not what works be done or not done, and strikes us through our ease, a sudden thunder-bolt, unsure alike for the healthy and the sick.

For the sake of things unloved and things loved have I sinned these many times; and never have I thought that I must surrender everything and depart. They whom I love not, they whom I love, I myself, shall be no more, naught shall remain. All the things whereof I have feeling shall pass away into a memory; like the vision of a dream, all departs, and is seen no more. The many whom I love or love not pass away while I stand here; only the dire sin wrought for their sake remains before me. I understood not that I was but a chance corner, and through madness, love, or hatred I have wrought many a sin. Unceasingly through night and day the waning of vital force increases; must I not die? Lying here on my bed, or standing amidst my kin, I must suffer the agonies of dissolution alone. Whence shall I find a kinsman, whence a friend, when the Death-god’s messengers seize me? Righteousness alone can save me then, and for that I have not sought. Clinging to brief life, I have been blind to this terror, heedless; O my Masters, grievous guilt have I gathered. He who is taken to be maimed of his limbs at once withers away; thirst racks him, his sight is darkened, the world is changed to his sight. How then will it be with me when I am in the charge of the Death-god’s hideous messengers, consumed by a fever of mighty terror, covered with filth, looking with timid glances to the four quarters of heaven for aid? Who will be the friend to save me from that awful terror? I shall see in the heavens no help, and sink back into madness; then what shall I do in that place of horror? Now, now I come for refuge to the mighty Lords of the world, the Conquerors eager for the world’s protection, who allay all fear; to the Law learned by them I come with all my heart for refuge, and to the Congregation of the Sons of Enlightenment. . . . Whatsoever guilt I have gathered in my foolishness and delusion, alike the wrong of nature and the wrong of commandment, I confess it all as I stand before the Masters with clasped hands, affrighted with grief and making obeisance again and again. May my Lords take my transgression as it is; never more, O Masters, will I do this unholy work.