Has he rejected me, or am I in any way to blame?
I bear witness to the Truth
That there is nothing here I am not ready to leave behind as one rises from a chair.
But I see a fly, a plant, a stone, yet him I do not see.
And if I do not find him why have my eyes been dowered with the faculty of seeing, and my hands with fingers as if they saw!
For I raise my hands and move them here and there!
And will someone speak of self-control and of works of betterment by which the noble man consecrates himself like a temple?
I do not care to be loved. But I know how to love and I would see and have!
And against these sure desires there is only a vague perhaps.
And why will it later be otherwise? For I am made of flesh and blood, as my mother made me.